Key to the Kingdom
by ChloeBlack101
Summary: CHAPTER 12 IS FINALLY POSTED! Is Chloe really going to go through with leaving Nero, and Brady, forever? Will Philip win out? Have to read to find out! I know this is a dark fic, but please read and review. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

**Key to the Kingdom**

**by: ChloeBlack101**

**Prologue**

First and foremost, I want to get the "Disclaimer"ish type stuff out of the way. Most of the characters in this long-winded little tale of mine do not belong to me. In fact, basically all of them don't. I've recreated them all to suite my needs, but the characters herein legally belong to NBC and Ken Corday and Days of Our Lives. I'm just borrowing them to pass the time. I hold no legal right to them. Believe me, if I did... Days would be a LOT different :P That said...

This fic is totally A/U, and was inspired by a dream I had... don't even ask, I don't even know if this was actually in the dream at all. Just know that this was the idea I woke up with. All that aside... lol, the real notes. You'll have to forgive the disheveled mess that likely is my author's notes. As I tend to go through massive bouts of writer's block, not to mention VERY long periods of not even watching Days, this story has been years in the making. I don't even know exactly when the early chapters were created; just know that they were written/published quite a long time ago, and I am just now (as of December 2005) starting to add to this story again. And be forewarned, if you've read this story (these early chapters anyway) before, later chapters might not make as much sense. Since it has truly been so long since I began this story, I'm going through and revising things here and there, changing things up a bit. A few additions and subtractions and the like. So mostly, my advice, since it's been so long, if you were a reader of this story back in the day that I was actually actively writing it, you will probably be best suited to start again from the beginning. Assuming anyone even remembers me, or this story of mine, that is :P

This is set in the past. No date given though, as it's a completely fictional story and needs no historical accuracy. Key to the Kingdom will in NO WAY follow the actual Days storyline, for obvious reasons. People that are not even on the show anymore may be used. And keep in mind, since I started writing this years ago, the actor who plays Philip has changed from Jay Kenneth Johnson to that new guy who's name I don't even care to remember since Philip is so very dull now that he's taken over the role. So when you read this, I had Jay as Philip in mind, and that portrayal may have a lot to do with the way this fic reads. And Belle, although she is not technically in Key to the Kingdom in the strictest sense, was played by Kirsten Storms at the time I started this, so again, she's the Belle I envision as I write this story. Just so you know, doubt it'll be all that important, since everyone's history in Key to the Kingdom is completely out of my own head, and in basically no way (except relationships like Brady being John's son, Belle being Brady's half-sister, things like that) resembles the actual show.

Couple will of course be BROE. There's a little Mason, although that doesn't play a very big role in the fic. Also some Phan, but be forewarned... there will be some Philinthia references, although whether they become an actual "couple" has yet to be foreseen. There will also, unless I change my mind and decide not to reveal them, be a surprise couple that will show up at the end of this fic. It's a surprise, so I will not elaborate. I'm not even sure I'll actually reveal the couple; it really isn't that important to the storyline, just something I added to make it fun for me to write ;)

This fic is set in Salem, although the geography/location of the land is definitely not our Salem. We enter the story in a war which has been fought for centuries between two royal families, the Blacks and the Kiriakis'. Just a note... the kingdom names are as follows: The Blacks rule the original kingdom, the Kingdom of Nero; the Brady's rule the Kingdom of Rubino; the Kiriakis' rule the Kingdom of Mucche; and the Masters rule the Kingdom of Supervisore. In this fic, Brady and Philip are in NO WAY related, although Isabella was still Brady's mother. As disturbing as the thought may be... Chloe is Philip's twin sister, which means Victor is her father (hence the reason Brady and Philip aren't related!). Craig and Nancy are used as extras, but they do not know Chloe, and Chloe's mother is of course Kate. Chloe and Philip were kidnapped as children by King John of Nero, as revenge against King Victor for the death of his first wife, Isabella. Philip escaped, but Chloe wasn't as fortunate. She was held in the Kingdom of Nero and sold into slavery. She only escaped one year before this fic starts, fleeing to the safety of the Kingdom of Rubino, which banned slavery centuries ago. Philip now rules as the King of Mucche, after Victor died in battle. Neither Victor or Philip ever found the long lost Princess. Brady took the throne of Nero after his father John too fell pray to the bloody war. Jason and Shawn don't play too big of roles in this fic. Jason plays less of one then Shawn. Shawn actually has some main points within the actual plot. Jason was mostly just extra, although he's not to say completely unimportant. Oh, and any Shelle fans...sorry, but there won't be Shelle in this one. Brady is left the only remaining Black, as Belle was murdered by Victor himself when she made an attempt to keep the peace between the two families.

A few others play some small cameos, and I felt the need to explain a few parental lineage notes here although they're really not important characters. Eric, Sami, and Carrie all share the same mother and father. Roman is their father, but Marlena is not there mother. Marlena's only child is Belle, who is related to Brady only. And Roman... not related to Bo in any way in this fic, so Shawn isn't related to Sami, Eric, or Carrie. Abe is mentioned in this story. He is, as on the show, related to the DiMera family by his marriage to Lexie. But that won't matter much; the DiMera's play a very small role in Key to the Kingdom. They are only mentioned in reference to the slave trade. As for ages... Brady is 25, Shawn is 24, as are Mimi, Jason, and Jan, and Philip and Chloe are the youngest, 22. Not that that matters. Uh... ok, I think that's all you need know beforehand. Everything else will be explained later on... enjoy, feedback is very much appreciated (hint hint, wink wink).

Long ago, in the far away land of Salem, the great Kingdom of Nero began. The kingdom was a peaceful place, small, but comfortable. The people of Nero were very ambitious, believing that through all there hard work, the simple village would grow and prosper. And that it did. Before long, the small village had grown into a bustling city, each class of society getting along well and pitching in together in times of need. Rich or poor, the city of Nero was one big family. The rulers of Nero, the Black family, were the kindest of all. The founding king, and his sons that followed him, were said to have a heart of gold. On many occasions, common beggars were allowed into the palace to eat at the King's table. Man, woman, and child alike were treated equally with as high respect as one would treat the royal family. Beautiful and scenic high mountain peaks bordered the Kingdom of Nero on three sides. The city of Nero itself lay in the rich valley of the mountain range. The soil was enriched by a river which ran alongside the open boundary and far off into the distance, past the boundaries of Nero and into uncharted territory. The rich soil aided in the prosperity of Nero, providing more then adequate grounds for many types of agriculture. Even though the rest of the land of Salem was uncharted, leaving the occupants of Nero stranded without contact from outsiders, the people of Nero continued to develop their city quickly, growing or producing everything they needed to live a satisfying life. Life was good. All were happy.

Sadly, such a perfect existence could not last. After over a century of peace and prosperity, the unity of Nero began to crumble. And all because of the arrival of one family, the Kiriakis family. Their arrival started out peaceful enough, although they did not come alone; the Kiriakis family brought with them over a hundred slaves. Up until the arrival of the Kiriakis family, slavery had not been an issue for those in Nero. They had thought they were far too isolated to gain many visitors. Truth was, even throughout all their advances, the people of Nero weren't much for exploring the other uncharted territories at that time. The land of Salem remained otherwise uncharted, but for over a century, it had been unknown to the population of Nero that just beyond the mountain region that lay on the south border, a huge lake-- perhaps one would consider it a small ocean even-- was the only thing that lay between them and the land from which the Kiriakis family originated. After the Kiriakis' arrival, and the later arrival of some of their wealthy supporters, the foreign place proved to never be a threat again, but the damage done by just the one family was more then enough.

With the slaves, the Kiriakis' brought a whole new industry to Nero; the sale of human beings. The townspeople were appalled, crying out to the king to take action. But, the kings heart of gold did not serve the young man as well as that of his ancestors. Falling prey to his desires for peace amongst Nero's new occupants, he decreed that slave trade would be permitted. Those who wished to partake could do so as they wish. Those that didn't, could go about their lives and ignore the trade. At the time of the kings decision, the Kiriakis family had yet to show what a threat they could be. Slave trade was a small influence, as the only peoples for which the rich Kiriakis family were permitted to sell were imported from the neighboring land. But before long, the Kiriakis family began to show their true colors.

During a drought, many of the families of Nero became too poor to feed their families. Andrew Kiriakis, the head of the family at that time, campaigned the king, stating that those that could not afford to feed themselves or their families should also be sold into slavery to pay off their debts. This time, the king denied the request, repulsed by the thought of allowing his own people to be sold into mandatory servitude. After a few failed attempts to peacefully reach their goal, the Kiriakis family simply took what they wanted, raiding a shelter set up by the king to aid the poor. The king was outraged, revoking all rights for legalized slave trade. That of course, did not stop the Kiriakis family. The king sent his army, though it was undeveloped and had been established more to aid the citizens during natural occurrences of disaster rather then harmful invasion, to round up the Kiriakis family. But by then, the Kiriakis family and their wealthy outsider supporters had gained the support of a large group of Nero natives who had gotten rich off the slave trade. The small Nero army was about as large as the supporters which Andrew had gained; when the Kiriakis' fought back, a 10 year long civil war resulted. The war proved to be very bloody, and very costly. Precious lives were lost, including those of King Alexander of Nero's beloved youngest son Nicholas, and Andrew's eldest son Robert. Valued crop fields were destroyed, windmills for grinding wheat burned to the ground.

Finally, after 10 long years, Alexander Black emerged victorious, casting the Kiriakis family and any and all who supported them out of Nero, banned forever to the wild, uncharted lands west of the Neroean mountains. The reason for forcing them west, was that 2 very rich and powerful families had long since abandoned Nero for life in other regions of uncharted Salem. The Brady family, as well as the Masters family, were the greatest opposer's of slavery, and both left not long after the arrival of the Kiriakis family. The Brady family migrated across the river to find not wilderness, but another valley, almost exactly like their native home upon the Blacks arrival. The mountain chains turned out to be almost mirror images of one another. They too started off slowly, naming their slightly smaller kingdom Rubino. The Masters did not have it quite so easy. The land east of Nero was not as fertile and naturally clean cut as Nero and Rubino. But they were not nearly so burdensome as the rugged, seemingly baron woodlands that the land west of Nero turned out to be for the Kiriakis family. The Masters prospered slowly, but surely, naming their kingdom Supervisore.

Throughout the war, both new kingdoms remained in contact with the Blacks, being long time family friends, but each refused to help in the war. They sent as much aid as possible after the war was over when Nero began to rebuild its city. But never would the Bradys or the Masters become involved in a war, started because of slavery. After the war ended, Nero started putting the pieces back together, attempting perhaps in vain to regain the peaceful state of living which had been destroyed by both the kindness of their beloved king, and the greediness of their own people. But nothing could ever be the same. And for good reason. For, all the while the people of Nero were carrying their heads high as they rebuilt in the security that the Kiriakis family was no longer a threat, the Kiriakis' too were building a city. They named their kingdom Mucche. The land was touch and seemingly unmanageable, and the Kiriakis family had gone broke during the war. But the cast-outs banned together, intent on revenge. They lay in wait, preparing what they called the "Imperial Army" to take over Nero. Alexandar, no longer quite as naive and good hearted, concentrated more on his army as well. He made his remaining son, Christopher, vow to never again leave the kingdom open to outside attack, and to uphold the honor the Black family retained. Both Alexandar and Christopher, as well as 2 more kings had come and gone before Mucche made it's move. One night, they attacked, using a sparsely known mountain pass. Many lives were lost. Mucche's King Jeremy killed Nero's King Jacob's only child, Elizabeth. The cursed night began a war that would last for centuries. Each battling kingdom was out for total revenge.

Unfortunately, Nero couldn't afford such a hideously long war without making sacrifices. As much as it displeased the Nero population, after the first 50 years of war, the current king of Nero finally agreed to sell captured Mucche men and women as slaves to either their few wealthy townspeople, or the neighboring nation across the sea of whom Nero had increasing trade contact with over the years between battles. Despite either side's efforts to gain the upper hand, the ageless battle continued to be passed on from generation to generation, until finally reaching Brady Black and Philip Kiriakis. Both were considered too young to be ruling under normal circumstances, Brady being the elder of the two. But both men were long since hardened by the bloody war that continued to rage throughout the times. By their time, no one even really remembered how the war had begun. They only knew that the other kingdom was the enemy, and had done such horrid things to deserve to be destroyed without mercy. Philip only knew that the Blacks were responsible for the disappearance of his beloved twin sister, Chloe, and the murder of his father Victor, who Philip had truly worshiped for his strength and wisdom. Philip worshiped the man, but had never really learned from him. He might have seen things someone his age should never have had to experience, but he had not been born with the natural battle skills which his ancestors had possessed.

Brady on the other hand had learned from his father, King John, although it had never been by choice. The murder of his mother, Isabella, at an early age left Brady's heart so empty, even though he was but a boy of 4 when she was killed. His father's remarriage to a commoner by the name of Marlena had not helped this feeling at all. Only the birth of his little sister had given Brady hope, something to fight for. But that too had been taken away, when his precious sister Isabella, named after his birth mother, fell prey to the wicked Victor Kiriakis because she had been born with a pure soul, and a kind heart. Brady was left all alone, with no desire or passion for anything, or anyone. He become a proper king, mindful of his people in times between fighting outburst, and leading his men into battle when the time was necessary. Despite his councils urging, Brady never took a wife. Philip had yet to take a wife either, although it was rumored he had taken a mistress, one Jan Spears. Whenever Brady was questioned on the topic, he simply waved them off, saying he had no time to search for a wife amongst the war, and had no intention of marrying solely to produce an heir to the throne. He would comment such meaningless breeding should be left to Kiriakis men and their whorish women. Truth be told, perhaps Brady still felt one passion that couldn't die, but could only be buried beneath the many layers of hardships he'd endured. And that was to bring an end to this pointless war, and to find his soul mate, as he believed was the only proper term for his father and mother's bond. The thought was silly, and was quickly dismissed as a childish dream, but he couldn't help but wonder. When would the day come, Brady finally found his key to the kingdom...


	2. Chapter

**Chapter 1**

Arciana smiled politely at the baker at his stand within the market place as she paid for her loaf of bread and placed it into the basket on her arm. She usually hated shopping, but today, although the market place of Rubino was fairly crowded as it always was, the mood around town seemed much lighter. Well, if that was possible, considering that the king, the once beloved and noble Shawn Brady, had all but abandoned his country. Over 3 years ago, 2 years before Arciana escaped her enslavement in Nero to the safety of Rubino, something mysterious and unknown to those of Rubino happened to King Shawn while visiting Nero. All anyone knew was that, 2 days after King Shawn's arrival, the boorish Kiriakis clan attacked Nero in the early dawn, taking them by surprise. Nero had emerged victorious with the death of King Victor of Mucche, but after the outburst, King Shawn was never the same. No one, except perhaps the King of Nero, knew why. King Shawn left Nero the day after the brawl, never to grace the kingdom of Nero with his presence again. But, he often left his kingdom as well, although not even the most trusted members of his council knew why. Even when he was present in his own domain, Shawn often left the running of the kingdom to the royal council men and advisors.

Arciana had heard of the change in the country of Rubino, long before she escaped Nero to seek refugee, but all she cared about was that slavery was and would forever be banned within the boundaries of Rubino. It had been 1 year since she escaped Nero, after her former owner died in the war between Nero and Mucche. His death could not have brought her more relief. She had been under his every command since the time she was but the mere age of 8; unlike many of the other slaves of Nero, Arciana had never been resold after the first auction she was put into. Her mistress was kind enough, never raising a hand against the young girl even once in the entire 13 years Arciana was held there. Lady Faye's two children were also kind enough, although her daughter Nicole was perhaps the most stuck up, bossy person Arciana had ever met. Brandon was perhaps the kindest, never asking anything of her although she was a slave, and he the son of a rich lord, but rather, fending for himself. But her master, Lord Paul, just the name sent chills down her spine. He'd abused her, in every way a person could ever be abused; physically, emotionally, mentally, sexually... it was all the same to him. Arciana was nothing but a worthless slave, put on this earth for his pleasure, and Lord Paul made sure she knew that. Arciana's slightly brighter mood wavered as she thought of her master, involuntarily shuttering. She shook the feeling of disgust off, going about her shopping. It was in the past now. Lord Paul was dead, and could never hurt her again.

Although things were far from normal in Rubino, Arciana had been surprisingly cheerful throughout most of the week. Finding work, especially for a woman who's education had come to an abrupt stop upon reaching the age of eight, in Rubino had been hard upon her arrival. But Arciana did eventually acquire a stable job as a seamstress for a tailor who owned his own private business. She found the job satisfying enough, although her true passion was music and the arts. The thing she hadn't found satisfying, were her living quarters. Even in the hellish 13 years at the Mendez estate, Arciana had at least a livable room to herself. Up until a week ago, she had lived in a tiny, often bug-ridden room over the tailor shop. But she had finally saved up enough money to move into a better part of the city. The cottage was not fancy by any means, but it had a living room, a small kitchen with a table suitable for her to eat on, and a small, but spacious bedroom. The location was also better as well. Although she wasn't right there above her workplace, Arciana was located more in the middle of the city, where she could easily access the tailor shop, the market place, and the public baths. Unfortunately, the location no longer held the same charm it had when Arciana had first arrived in Rubino.

Fairly recently, Rubino had been under a few attacks from the Mucchean peoples. It was rumored that they wished to completely take over Rubino, as an asset to be used in the on-going war with the Neroeans, before moving on to over-take Supervisore. King Jason had already taken the rumor in stride, preparing his army should the need to defend the country arise. But King Shawn was no where to be found. After the first attack many months before, the king left to travel to the distant lands, from which the Kiriakis clan came from, and the Rubinoeans often traded and bartered with, without word of when he would return. The attacks worried Arciana, although she wished not to let her good mood be spoiled by old fears. But the cause of her worry was just. Word had spread quickly about the last attack, a mere 4 days ago. Many Rubinoeans had been taken from their homes in the attack, and everyone knew what became of them. The particular band of thugs which had been attacking Rubino these past few weeks lived in Mucche, but had no loyalty to either side. They were slave traders, pure and simple, and didn't care which side came out victorious, as long as both sides were interested in purchasing slaves. Although originally, Nero had been passionately against the sale of human beings as slaves, after so many centuries of war, it had became necessary to legalize slavery within the Neroean boarders. The on-going war was funded heavily by rich Lords and citizens, most of which being the kinds of people who expected something in return. And that something was the right to buy and sell slaves if they so chose. Of course, only the selling of captured Muccheans and those brought over from the distant lands had been legalized, but then, those that bought from the infamous DiMera slavers did not care to abide by the rules. The King of Nero didn't need to know that the slaves that had been most recently sold in Nero had been obtained from the peaceful Rubino. The depressing thought that she could end up right back in Nero where she started made Arciana wish she had never come to Rubino; never been abducted from her rightful home in the first place actually. Arciana shook her head, leaning up against the wall of a now empty little shop that had just recently went out of business. No, she remembered her life before slavery, and she most certainly didn't want to return to that either...

FLASHBACK

"But, Papa..." the brown-haired eight year old girl started, attempting to reason with her father.

"But nothing," her father practically growled, eyes filled with absolute rage. Never in his entire heritage had there been such unruly, disgraceful children like his daughter and son. During a very important meeting with his council, his 8 year old children had burst into the war room, screaming like banshees as the little boy chased his twin sister with a wooden sword. "Do you two have any idea how much of a disgrace you are? Why, I've never been so embarrassed in all my life! To think, my children, who should be seen as having strong, willful upbringing, running around like two chickens with their heads cut off, screaming and laughing and disrupting my meeting, when you know damn well you are not allowed in this wing."

"Please, Papa, let me explain," the little girl pleaded, not being able to hide her fright. Her father's vicious tone always scared her senseless. The man was ruthless, with a very, very short temper.

"There is nothing to explain! Why, if I had pulled such a stunt, my father wouldn't hesitate to beat some common sense into me. The only reason I haven't taken a whip to you already is because you are a girl, and haven't the mind to know better. But you," the girls father sneered, turning to his son, who was very tempted to hide behind his sister for protection. "You. You are pitiful, a disgrace to our honored family name. I have half a mind to..."

"Now now, husband," his wife soothed. With anyone else, his wife couldn't have cared less what happened to them. But the woman was very protective of her children, especially her son, and was known to do anything and everything to see that they got their way. "You know the twins meant no harm. They are only children. Even we must allow children to be children, while they still have the opportunity. They will soon be grown, and taking on such heavy responsibilities. Let them be, husband. Both of them do wonderfully with their schooling, and our son has the makings of the finest warrior. Please, do not be too harsh with them. What would that accomplish, besides proving right every harsh thing that is said about our family." The little girl's mother pointed out. Her husband appeared to be on the brink of protesting, before he threw up his hands in defeat.

"I do not have time for this! I must prepare for the mornings attack. Wife, see to it that the children stay out of the restricted wings. In fact, get them out of the palace altogether! I do not want to see either of their faces again until after I return!" He stated, before leaving in a huff. His wife bent down on one knee, mindful of not getting her elaborate dress dirty, the sugary sweet look gone from her face. True, she would stop at nothing to see that her children got everything which they desired. But she also had a temper, and would not allow such blatant disruption to go unpunished.

"Foolish children. Don't you know better then to pull a stunt like that," their mother hissed. The young girl flinched, while the little boy finally gave in to any boyish bravado he might have possessed, hiding behind his twin and burying her face in her hair.

"Please, Momma, don't be mad at us! We were only playing," the little boy pleaded. "Don't punish us, Momma. We promise we'll be good, honest!"

"Don't you try pulling that with me, young man. You are the son of royalty. You are to act with dignity at all times. Honestly, I'm beginning to wonder why I protect you two so. Such disgraces!" Their mother hissed.

"Mother, please... don't say that. We didn't mean to disappoint you. We'll try better next time." The little girl promised quietly. Why her brother was their mother's favorite, she would never know. "My teacher gave me an 'A' on my sewing, Momma. I'm going to be a proper lady, just like you Momma." Their mother sighed in defeat, standing up.

"You two most certainly have the powers of manipulation down. I've grown weary of you two. Run along now and stay out of your father's sight. Play outside in the courtyard, or have your nanny take you for a walk for all I care. Just stay out of sight." Their mother ordered, before she too disappeared. The little girl turned around, giving her twin a frustrated, rather disgusted look.

"Alright, scardy cat, you can come out now," the little girl stated. The boy scowled, pushing his sister away from him.

"I am not a scardy cat!" he protested.

"You are so!" The little girl cried, pushing her brother back before turning on her heel and dashing out of the room. Her twin was hot on her trail, rushing throughout the halls of the elaborately decorated palace to catch his sister, screaming either obscenities or threats of harm once he caught her. The two children rushed passed half the council, disturbed two maids, and many others, finally running out of the palace and into the courtyard. The brown-haired girl squealed with both delight, and faked anger when her brother finally caught her by the waist, tackling her to the grass and causing her to tear her new dress. Of course, the young girl didn't notice as her brother began to tickle her as payback for being called names. "Stop! You bumbling ogre, get off me!" The little girl squirmed under her brother's relentless tickling, managing to grab onto his arms and flip him over. Before long, the two were wrestling on the ground, hardly a way for children of royalty to act. They paid no attention to where their brawl took them, nor did they notice that they were completely unsupervised, which would have greatly angered their parents. They had wrestled and chased each other nearly to the border of the woods surrounding the palace before the little girl finally got the upper hand, pinning her twin brother to the ground and beginning the same tickle-torture he'd bestowed on her.

"No, stop it! Stop it, you brat, stop that right now!" The little boy squealed, being much more ticklish then she was. Before either one of them could say another thing, the little girl felt a strong arm wrap around her tiny waist, pulling her abruptly off her brother. Similar looking arms grabbed her brothers shoulders, hoisting him up off the ground. Both children cried out for help, each struggling against their kidnappers. The little boy was thrown over the shoulder of the man who'd nabbed him, while the other man was having more trouble getting the girl under control.

"Philip!" the little girl screamed for help as the man who held her brother turned to run into the safety of the woods, his back to his partner which allowed Philip to see his sister.

"Chloe!" Philip yelled, reaching out to his sister in vain...

END FLASHBACK

Arciana closed her eyes as the painful memory washed over her. Her brother Philip had been fortunate enough to escape. But she had not. She had been carted off to Nero to be sold to the highest bidder, a pawn in the Black's revenge against the Kiriakis family for all their wrong-doings. But, no, she would not think of that. She had a new name now, a new life. Chloe Kiriakis no longer existed. Arciana Miller was who she was now, a simple seamstress with an ordinary life in Rubino, not the Princess of Mucche. Or rather, she would be Queen, ruling beside her twin brother, now that her father and mother were dead. But she wanted none of that. She would never trust a Neroean, outside of Faye and Brandon, again, but she would not become a tyrant either. Both families were ruthless as far as she was concerned, and she wanted nothing to do with either sides. Life as a simple seamstress in Rubino would suit her just fine. Arciana picked up her basket, beginning to continue on her way towards her last stop, the butcher's stand, until she heard a feminine scream.

"No, don't hurt me!" A woman cried. Many other cries followed, as the people unfortunate enough to be shopping in this part of the market place caught sight of the Mucchean men, dressed in their black armor. They had one mission: to kill no one, but to take live prisoners. Arciana dropped her basket, dashing into the empty store to hide as the Muccheans began to round up defenseless townspeople, throwing women and small children over their shoulders, and restraining the men, knocking a few out to obtain that goal. Unfortunately for Arciana, one of the Muccheans spotted her, grinning in satisfaction as he made his way through the crowd towards the abandoned shop. Even from a distance, he could see what a gorgeous body she had, and he had every attention of making sure she was one of the many they took back with them to sell to the Neroeans for the impending auction this very afternoon. The tall brute threw open the door, delighting in her scramble to hide from sight by dashing behind a counter. He strode confidently into the shop, reaching over the counter and pulling Arciana up by her hair. Arciana screamed, trashing her arms in an attempt to ward him off. Even throughout all the years of Lord Paul's constant abuse, Arciana had been unable to learn to truly defend herself, at least when she panicked. In another situation, she could have perhaps gotten away. But, knowing her pre-destined fate threw all sense of reason completely out of her brain. The Mucchean grinned evilly as he hoisted Arciana effortlessly up over his shoulder, delighting in her crazed kicking and screaming. Whomever was lucky enough to buy this one was sure in for a good time. Only one clear thought pounded through Arciana's head as she was carried out of the shop and thrown roughly into a large covered wagon with the other abducted citizens, the door slamming behind her: 'Dear God, please not again...'

Brady couldn't help but smile as his advisor, Harold, rambled on and on with today's to do list. Even though the situation was bleak-- council meeting notes, items to discuss at the next meeting, most everything somehow leading back to the situation with Mucche and the Kiriakis clan-- King Brady found Harold's constant goings on hilarious. The man shouldn't have been a member of the royal council. His advisor Harold was just too... not boring for such a thing. Perhaps that was the reason which King Brady had named Harold his advisor in the first place.

"You know, you're Majesty... the council... they have been quite concerned," Harold began slowly, finally ending his on and on chatter about all the pressing issues the council would need to discuss at the next meeting in the morning.

"What about?" King Brady questioned.

"Well... I know I should not mention it, your Majesty... but... well, the council is quite concerned because... you have not taken a wife," Harold stated hesitantly. Brady sighed, shaking his head. Here we go again. "I mean... what with this beastly war going on, you never know what may become of you. Not that I don't believe you are perfectly capable of handling your own in battle, your highness! You most certainly have proved yourself to be more then worthy, given your young age. I just... well, you do never know what to expect with those Kiriakis'. And the council, as well as many of the townspeople, are growing rather worried. You have not married so that you and your wife can bare an heir to the throne, and, well, if something should befall you... anyone could take over the throne. You have not named your rightful heir, and you have no other relatives to take the throne should you be hurt or killed in battle." Immediately, Harold cursed his fast tongue. "Oh, your Highness, I did not mean to..."

"It's quite alright Harold. I know you meant no harm. You are right. I have no relatives to take my place, and I have named no heir to the throne," Brady said, attempting to cover his pain. It had been 3 years, but Brady would forever mourn the loss of his younger sister, his sweet Isabella. "But Harold, you and the council must understand... that I do not wish to marry just because I am obligated to leave behind an heir to the throne. What is the point in my trying to save my people from this war if I can stoop so low as to marry without consideration of love, just to produce a child. Why, what would be the difference in that and my just naming a mistress? I will not marry for any reason but love, no matter what the council says. And I have yet to met anyone I could ever consider my soul mate."

"Oh, your Majesty, surely many of the young princesses you've met would make a fine wife!" Harold protested. He respected the king, and his wishes, but he agreed with the other members of the council. Nero needed strong leaders, and Brady was one of the strongest in Nero's history. But naming a more then adequate heir was very important. Brady considered his birth parents to be soul mates, but even they had married only because they had been betrothed at birth. Love had come, almost instantly, but they would have married whether they were in love or not, for the sake of their beloved homeland. Many were concerned when King John did not arrange for a wife for Brady. Even though John would have married his Isabella without the instance of his family, he also didn't believe in arranged marriages. A man should be allowed to choose his own wife. John could only thank God that the one chosen for him had been his true soul mate, no matter how short their time together had been. "You know, Arcadia is looking for an ally against their enemies in their own struggles. I know that outside of their neighboring country, Supervisore, no one else has had much to do with the small country. But they could prove to be helpful against the Muccheans. And it is no secret that King David wishes to marry off his daughter Princess Miriam to a strong ally. Perhaps you should look into it," Harold suggested. Brady chuckled, shaking his head. He had met King David and his daughter Miriam only once, and, although beautiful, Miriam was certainly not the kind of girl King Brady pictured himself spending the rest of his life beside.

"As good an ally Arcadia would make, I am afraid Princess Miriam is not my type. Besides, King Jason would not be too pleased with me if I were to move in on the girl he's been hoping to court for quite some time," Brady pointed out. Harold's brow creased in thought; he had forgotten of King Jason's desire to wed the lovely Princess Miriam Lockhart of Arcadia. Oh well, he would just have to try another Princess...

"Oh, and your Majesty, before I forget, I must inform you... Hawk was here asking for you this morning." Harold stated. Brady groaned, not making an attempt to hide hid displeasure. True, aside from King Jason, and King Shawn-- although the two had not spoken in over 3 years-- Lord Hawk, one of the wealthier of Nero, had grown up to be one of his best friends. But Lord Hawk could be so annoying. He was definitely not your ordinary member of the upper-class. He was by no means stuck up, and spent most of his time gambling or womanizing and drinking, or a combination of all three. Hawk often came to Brady, asking the King of Nero to accompany him into the city for one scheme or another, as if it was common place for a king to be walking around unguarded with his people when there was a seemingly never ending war going on between the Neroeans and the Muccheans.

Of course only Hawk and perhaps King Jason knew that Brady often went outside the palace in disguise as a commoner to be amongst his people whether he had an excuse or not. Though the motive behind such action was unknown even to Brady himself. Brady had long ago lost any passion for his people, or anyone. He wished to end their constant suffering, true enough. No man who thought of himself as honest and loyal could act otherwise. But Brady often felt a sense of guilt, as he occasionally fell prey to the belief that he only wanted to aid his people in order to help relieve some of his own suffering. Brady, had he not been plagued with the deaths of his beloved family, could have been one of the most kind-hearted, compassionate kings Nero had ever seen. He had been born with such a pure heart just as his sister Isabella had been. Brady still and probably always would long to be that innocent, loving child again. He wanted to provide for his people, for all the right reasons, instead of his own need to take away the worthless feeling left by the death of his loved ones. No matter what he tried to do, whether it be while he was fighting the Muccheans, making out treaties to provide sufficient help to his people while still being able to support the war, or going out in disguise to be among his people, Brady could never wash away that feeling of guilt. A feeling as though he were cursed and was somehow to blame for the loss of his family. But perhaps that guilty feeling left him with some hope. All the hardship he had endured had not left him heartless, or he would not feel such things, even if for slightly selfish reasons. He just didn't know what else he could do about that feeling; pretending for a few moments here and there to be an ordinary common man was the only relief that presented itself to Brady. King Brady's thoughts were interrupted by Hawk approaching. Hawk never cared for the royal guard, or having them announce his approaching the King. He was a lord, was he not? No king, certainly, but he was a personal friend of the King, and he hated the stuck up royal guard with a passion anyway.

"Speak of the devil," Brady murmured under his breathe. "Ah, Lord Hawk, how... good it is to see you."

"Drop the 'lord' stuff, will ya Brady? You know I hate titles," Hawk stated arrogantly. Harold was appalled. No one should speak in such a manner in front of the king!  
"Why you... have you no respect for you're king!" Harold demanded. Brady smiled despite himself.

"Relax, Harold. Once you grow up with a guy, you learn to deal with the fact he's an arrogant, manner-less ass," Brady stated. Hawk pouted, pretending to be hurt.

"Now now, Kingie. Just because you have a higher title then mine doesn't mean you have free pass to be rude," Hawk huffed. Harold rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the annoyance that was Lord Hawk. Harold could see why his parents had almost disowned the boy. "Anyway, so, Brady, is tonight a go, or what?"

"What? Am I forgetting something here?" Brady asked, confused. Hawk sighed; figured Brady would forget.

"A few days ago, I asked you if you would like to accompany me tonight, to the auction. You said you would see what you could do. So, what can you do, Brady?" Hawk asked impatiently.

"Hawk... you know I loathe those things. And I know damn well I won't end up just going to the auction with you. I'll end up coming with you to some tavern where I'll have to watch you get drunk and hit on every woman within a 100 yard radius," Brady complained.

"Oh what, like you hadn't planned to go out into the city soon with or without me as an excuse?" Hawk countered, knowing full well he had the King right where he wanted him. Brady did not wish anyone, not even Harold, to know of his tendency to join the common people of Nero, though he suspected Harold was likely well aware of his abnormal habit. Brady narrowed his eyes at Hawk, giving him a look that almost screamed 'You will so pay for that.'

"What?" Harold asked. Brady waved it of. "What did he mean by..."  
"Nothing, Harold. Please, would you leave Lord Hawk and I alone. We have a few matters which must be discussed. And have you forgotten that I wish you to speak with Lord and Lady Deveraux? They wish to address some things to the council, and I would like you to see what those issues are," Brady stated. Hey, it was a distraction tactic, but it was true. King Brady was curious about what the eccentric Jack Deveraux had to bring up in the next council meeting. Harold was suspicious to say the least, but it was not his place to question the King.

"Yes, your Majesty. Right away," Harold said, giving Hawk a warning glance before departing to speak with Lord Deveraux. After Harold was well out of sight, Brady turned on Hawk, ushering him into one of the many rooms in the Neroean palace.

"You know, Lord Hawk, it is not wise to attempt to blackmail a King," Brady stated, warning in his firm tone. "You know full well that my leaving the palace to be among my people is no one's business but mine. The only reason you know is because I trust you with such information."

"Yeah yeah, I get your point. No need for the guilt trip. It succeeded in ditching Harold, so I'm happy," Hawk stated. Brady merely rolled his eyes at Hawk's foolish arrogance.

"Of course now I will have him asking me all sorts of questions. He did not hide his suspicions well," Brady said. "Now, what is all this business with me accompanying you tonight? You have never asked me to attend the auctions with you before. It was my understanding that you usually prefer to go alone."

"Ah yes, 'tis true. I usually do. But I ran into an old friend not long ago when I was visiting nearby Supervisore. I thought it would be wonderful to have him join me here in Nero. But the only way I could get him to agree to attend the auction with me was to promise that you would be there." Hawk said.

"And you presumed that I would automatically say yes when you know full well I have much more important things to accomplish then attend a slavers auction. You know how I feel about those bloody auctions. The only reason I have not banned slavery altogether is because the lords who so generously fund the on-going war would cut off all financial aid if I did," Brady stated wearily, turning away from Hawk to inspect the many paintings on the wall. The particular room really had no purpose, except as a place to talk quietly in the usually bustling palace without interruption. Still, many family portraits lined the fine wood walls, displaying paintings of generation after generation of Black men, woman, and children. Also among the many paintings were those of close family friends throughout the years. Brady paused in front of a portrait of his beloved sister Isabella, wrapped protectively in his arms. The sight of both their smiling faces in the portrait made his heart break for the millionth time.

"Oh, I know you well, King Brady. I knew when I told you who would be attending the auctions, you would not turn down the offer to accompany me," Hawk stated proudly.

"Did you now, Lord Hawk? Well, that was mighty presumptuous of you. Who, may I ask, is so important that I would immediately rush out to accompany you to some event you know I loathe?" Brady inquired. Hawk smirked knowingly.

"Why, none other then King Shawn of Rubino, your Majesty," Hawk replied. Brady turned on his heel to face his life-long friend, eyes showing his complete disbelief.

"Shawn is in Nero?" Brady asked quietly. It had been over 3 years since Shawn Brady had last been seen in Nero. It had been no secret that he wished to court the young Princess Isabella. Shawn had fallen almost immediately in love with Brady's younger sister when they were but children. And all knew that Princess Isabella felt just as passionately about the handsome King Shawn. They would have married that fall no doubt, a predication Brady himself had reached when Shawn had come to him, asking advice on courting Isabella. But sadly, that was never to be. Sweet Belle had fallen pray to the deadly point of Victor Kiriakis sword, leaving Brady all alone, and Shawn's heart shattered beyond repair. Brady had no doubt Shawn blamed him for Belle's murder. The fact that Shawn left the day after, never to contact anyone in Nero again, only proved that theory further. To think that Shawn would be in Nero after all these years, asking for him no less, was a completely unfathomable thought. Hawk nodded, a smug grin on his face.

"That is correct, Your Majesty. He gave me only a few details, but it is my understanding that King Shawn wishes to discuss some very urgent matters with you in perso,." Hawk replied. Brady merely nodded, turning back to the portrait of he and Isabella. "So, the only question that remains is, will you meet with us tonight, at the Blaney Tavern?" Moments passed before Brady answered.

"Yes, I will meet with you tonight. Go now, I will see you there an hour before sun down," Brady said, waving Hawk off. Hawk grinned, pleased with himself.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Hawk stated sarcastically, bowing dramatically before exiting the room. Brady brought his hand up, gently touching the painting, caressing his sister's cheek. He could only imagine how disappointed his beloved sister would be in him for not trying harder to fix things with Shawn. Brady sighed heavily, dropping his hand to his side.

"What I wouldn't give, not to be the King," Brady murmured. He shook his head sadly, thinking of his precious Isabella as he too departed the spare room, vowing silently to both himself and his sister's memory that he would patch things up between he and Shawn, for Belle's sake...

Arciana shivered, pulling her legs up tighter to her chest. She'd been curled up in the darkest corner of the tiny wagon for over an hour now with the other Rubinoeans who'd been abducted from the marketplace. No words were spoken between the prisoners. None were needed. Even the small children who'd been taken knew what awaited them when they reached Mucche. The auction would not come until later tonight. Everyone knew that the slave traders would sell them all to their contacts in Nero, claiming they were imported from the distant lands, for a more then likely pre-set price. Then they would be ushered into another similar cart to be transported to Nero for auction the same night. Each would go their separate ways then, gone to the highest bidder. To the others, this experience was new and frightening. Children huddled close to their mothers, if they were lucky enough to have their mothers with them, crying and begging for reassurance that everything would be ok. The other children who'd been ripped from their mothers arms would find the nearest female to turn to, needing motherly reassurance from them even though they were not their real mothers. A small girl rested at Arciana's feet. But she went unnoticed. All the others were scared, and for good reason. But Arciana, she was the most terrified of all. For unlike the others, she knew first hand what slave life was like. Tears streamed down her now smudged, dirty face, but they too went unnoticed. Arciana merely stared ahead unseeing at the door which held her from freedom. No thoughts crossed her mind as the cart came to an abrupt stop. Those who were attentive enough could hear voices outside, discussing the terms and prices of the sale. Finally, after some debate, the doors to the 3 different carts holding the abducted Rubinoeans were flung open, revealing 3 armed Neroean guards at each door to drag the newly purchased slaves out of their dark holding quarters to the 3 similar wagons waiting for them.

"Up, slave," one demanded of Arciana. She did not move, even as the child at her feet scooted closer to her for protection, wrapping her little arms around the young woman. "Are you deaf? I said up!" He reached in, grabbing the now screaming child by the waist and pulled her out, handing her to one of his men behind him. He then grabbed Arciana, though she did not even flinch when he clamped onto her arm and began to pull her out of the cart. She was the last, so the door was slammed shut behind her as the Neroean guard dragged her to a new covered wagon, shoving her roughly inside and slamming the door shut behind her. An elderly woman who'd been abducted sensed the young woman's shock, pulling Arciana gently into the back corner. Arciana did not register her presence. She merely reclaimed her former position, her legs drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped protectively around her legs, chin resting on her arms. Before long, the new driver set the cart into motion, leading the other 2 back through the mountain trail which lead home to Nero. Soon, they would all meet new owners...

Shawn paced nervously in front of the Blaney Tavern, dismissing Hawk's knowing smirk.

"Are you sure he said an hour before sun down?" Shawn asked for perhaps the millionth time. Being back in Nero again was more painful then expected. Each sight he saw reminded him of his precious Isabella. Even beggars on the streets brought thoughts of her to his mind, for he knew if she were alive, she would be doing everything in her power to find them a decent place to sleep and give them food. Isabella was the most involved princess he had ever known. She would have willingly given the clothes on her back and the meal she herself was set to eat to a nameless stranger should they ask for it. While Brady, and his father King John before him, handled matters of war, official treaties, and supplying their people with the things they needed for survival from afar, Isabella had been right there with her people, helping in any way the girl knew how. Shawn wanted nothing more then to retreat to the safety of his own kingdom, but that thought reminded him of the reason he was here to speak to Brady. His kingdom was no longer a safe haven.

"For the zillionth time Shawnie Boy, yes, he said an hour before sun down! You know how things go with you kings. Probably had to ditch Harold or one of those stuck up pricks he calls a council," Hawk replied.

"They would not appreciate such a comment, Lord Hawk," Brady stated, coming up unnoticed behind Hawk. Hawk turned, the cocky grin he usually sported still on his face.

"Ah I'm sure it'll give 'em a good laugh. Lord knows they need it. Actually, what those stuffy council members of yours need is a good roll in the hay. I could set them up with the finest ladies in the land," Hawk offered. Brady chuckled, shaking his head.

"I will let them know and get back to you on that one, Hawk," Brady replied. The slight grin faded when he noticed the somber King Shawn. "Shawn," Brady addressed hesitantly.

"Brady," Shawn returned. Neither knew what to say to the other. It had been 3 long years since they last spoke. What was there to say?

"I need a drink," Hawk muttered under his breath. "You two may continue not knowing what to say out here by yourselves. We have a little time before the auction begins. I'll be inside when you're ready." With that, Hawk disappeared into the rowdy tavern. Brady shifted nervously. A King was always expected to know exactly what to do in every situation. But then, Brady was no ordinary King, and neither was Shawn.

"Shawn, look, I..." Brady started, but Shawn waved him off.

"No, Brady, just stop. Let's not bring up the past. The past is just that, behind us. It is better left alone then agonized about," Shawn interrupted. Brady nodded in agreement.

"I agree, old friend. I just feared, after all these years, meeting with you again might seem a bit uncomfortable."

"We've been best friends since we were children, Brady. I don't see why things should be uncomfortable now, even... even after Isabella's death." Just saying Isabella and death in the same sentence nearly broke his heart in two. Brady sensed that pain, and knew all too well what his friend was going through. They each had loved Isabella very much. She was perhaps all either one of them had.

"Well, after you left so suddenly, I feared you would blame me for... Isabella's accident," Brady admitted.

"You what?" Shawn asked, seeming somewhat shocked. "You... you thought I blamed you?"

"You mean you didn't?" Brady inquired. Shawn shook his head.

"No. Never. You did the best you could, and you took vengeance on Isabella's killer, honoring her memory. I never blamed you," Shawn replied. Brady still looked unconvinced. So much for wishing to leave the past behind them.

"If you did not blame me, then why did you..."

"I blamed myself, Brady." Shawn replied, knowing the rest of the question before it was asked. "That's why I stayed away so long. I couldn't face you, not knowing that I should have done something, anything to keep Isabella from leaving the safety of the palace that day. It was not you I blamed for not protecting Isabella, but myself," Shawn finished quietly. Brady stepped forward, placing his hand reassuringly on his friend's shoulder.

"It seems we both have very deep regrets about that day, old friend. I think, after all these years, I've finally come to realize that it was not my fault, or yours, but that fate... has never been on our side. Isabella was a kind, gentle soul. But such heroism, seems to never come without a price. I believe from this day forth, we should put all blame aside. Isabella would not want us to suffer for her loss. I know that now. Perhaps I've always known. Let's not let her death bring us each one step closer to our own," Brady said sincerely. Shawn nodded, his eyes showing his deep gratitude for his friend's words. Things had never been easy for Brady, where as, before Belle's death, the king of the peaceful Rubino had never been faced with any real hardships. Mucche's goal was to over-take Nero, not Rubino, although it would not object to the idea of using Rubino to take its revenge on Nero. Even the death of his beloved parents, King Beaureguard and Queen Hope, had not been a real hardship. They had each died peacefully in their sleep, where as both Brady's parents had been killed-- his mother at the hands of a foolish Mucchean out for glory, and his father at the hands of Victor Kiriakis in battle. Isabella, his sister, too had died at the hands of Victor Kiriakis, but the king of Mucche had not even had the time to wipe his blade before he too finally tasted death.

"Thank you, my friend," was all Shawn needed to say. Nothing he could say would express his gratitude for his friend. Brady nodded, removing his hand from Shawn's shoulder.

"Now... Lord Hawk informs me that you wished to speak with me about urgent matters. Tell me, what is troubling you?" Brady asked, gesturing to Shawn that they should take a walk down the nearby alley to get away from the noise of the crowded tavern. Each were dressed in similar attire, abandoning the clothing of royalty for something that gave off the impression they were both nothing more then ordinary townspeople. Neither were dressed elaborately, although Brady's choice of clothing gave off a more sophisticated look then Shawn's. Shawn wore a dark purple, slightly ragged patched vest, left open in the front to reveal his broad chest. The vest was made up of different colored patches on the purple material, most with a circular pattern. He also wore simple black leather pants with a belt. To finish the outfit, Shawn wore a purple amulet around his neck, which had been given to him many years ago as a birthday gift from his precious Isabella. Brady, on the other hand, wore a white dress shirt, with arms that puffed out slightly, and tied together with white strings to leave a crisscross pattern at the neckline. Over the white dress shirt he wore a brown leather vest with a sash wrapped around his waist with varying blue shades of color and a brown belt. He finished off the outfit with a pair of simple brown leather pants. Shawn nodded as they began to walk down the alleyway to be away from the crowd.

"Yes. I have a favor to ask of you, I'm afraid," Shawn replied.

"Never hesitate to ask anything of me, Shawn. We are old friends. Despite the fact you are unwilling to join with me in the war against the Muccheans, you have always been there to support me in time of crisis. You know I am only to honored to repay the favor," Brady stated.

"Ah, but this favor... it is rather big. Life threatening, one would say," Shawn continued. Brady stopped, turning to face his friend.

"What is it, Shawn?" Brady asked, worriedly. Shawn sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"My grieving has caused my country to suffer. For the past 3 years, I have left the running of my own country to my council and advisors. Most of the time I was not even there, leaving Rubino for long periods of time to escape to simplicity in the distant lands, or Supervisor and Arcadia. Even if I was there in Rubino, I rarely lifted a finger to assist my people. I brushed aside any important treaties, telling my advisors to attend to it. I was too deep in self pity and loathing to see that my country was deteriorating. Perhaps I did see. I just didn't care," Shawn explained, his hatred for himself very evident in his tone and in his eyes. "At first, my abandonment did not cause much harm to the people of Rubino. There was hardship, but never any outside threat. Until now. The Mucchean people have begun attacking my country, capturing innocent citizens to be taken to Mucche as slaves. I do not know which band has been attacking my countryside as of late, but most of the attacks are independent Mucchean slave traders. King Philip, although not directly responsible, is using these attacks to his advantage none the less. He has stated that if we even once fight back, war will be declared on Rubino. I have neglected my country long enough, Brady. I'm beating the Kiriakis family to it; I plan to declare war on Mucche upon my return to Rubino. These abductions and violations have got to stop, old friend. I have already talked with King Jason of Supervisore. He knows as well as I that if King Philip succeeds in taking over Rubino, Supervisore will be next on his list of conquests to use against you in the war. Jason has agreed to band our kingdoms together against the Muccheans. But our armies, even combined, are not nearly as vast and well trained as King Philip's. Until now, we have had no need for an army. Even when the countries were first founded, Mucche's war has always been solely against Nero. We need your help, Brady. Without you, and the Neroean Army, Rubino and Supervisore will surely fall into the hands of Mucche. Will you help us?" Shawn pleaded.

"Do you even have to ask, Shawn?" Brady questioned. "Of course, I will join my army with that of Rubino and Supervisore. I would never allow my enemy such an advantage over me. But more importantly, I would never abandon the kingdoms of my best and oldest friends when they are in danger. I will do everything in my power to help you and Jason, Shawn. Together, we will declare all-out war on Mucche, and finally end this senseless battle," Brady vowed. He held out his arm to Shawn, who immediately took it in the customary warriors handshake, clasping his upper arm.

"Thank you, my friend," Shawn said. They shook hands, sealing their agreement, before letting their arms fall back to their sides. "The war between the Neroeans and the Muccheans has gone on too long. This is long over due, my friend. The senseless bloodshed, shall finally cease," Brady nodded his head in agreement, about to say something when Hawk appeared at the entrance to the alleyway, a big-breasted, trampy looking red-head on his arm.

"There you two are! Come come, we don't want to miss the beginning of the auction! Audrey my dear, will you be here waiting for my when I return?" Hawk questioned the woman, who immediately nodded.

"Yes my lord, of course I will."

"Good. Off with you then," Hawk stated, sending the woman off with a slap to the ass. Brady and Shawn just shook their heads in disgust, walking up to Hawk. "Enough chit chat you two. It's time for slave buying." Hawk, who had downed a couple of mugs of ale in the time he was in the tavern, lopped his arms with his friends, walking in between the two kings. Brady and Shawn shared a knowing look, refraining from pointing out Hawk's obvious drunken state as all three began towards the court square, where all public slave auctions were held.

"You know, Lord Hawk, I do believe I have figured out the reason why you have all the sudden decided to have royalty accompany you to the auctions," Brady started.

"Do ya now? And just what conclusion have you come to?" Hawk questioned.

"That the only reason you asked us to come along is so you have someone rich with you if you should find a woman you want to buy and need some financial help." Brady answered.

"Ah yes, that must be it. Lord knows he couldn't get a woman without using either his title or money to get her," Shawn interjected. All 3 shared a laugh, though Hawk was laughing because he was too tipsy from the ale to comprehend the fact he was being insulted. The auction was just beginning as the 3 entered the court square, deciding to stand at the back of the very large group who'd turned out to attend the auction. Just as Hawk, Shawn, and Brady were arriving, the slave traders were preparing the slaves behind a curtain that had been set up just for the auction on a wooden stage used for public announcements and performances. Men, woman, and children weren't separated of course, even though the word 'preparing' was used to signify the slaves were being stripped and dressed into new clothing to make them appear as if they truly were from the distant lands.

"This one is perfect! Such rich complexion... and very ample body. Put her in the new import, the purple and gold one. She'll sell for a very pretty sum," gleamed the auctioneer as he studied Arciana. Unlike all the others around her, Arciana made no move to struggle. She merely stood there quietly as she was stripped of her simple blue dress and underwear, didn't even flinch as she was exposed to the world before the new, provocative, exotic garment was draped over her form. "Gather the men together. They will go first. Then the women and children," instructed the auctioneer. All were now dressed, most in ragged clothes that looked as if they were nothing more then feed sacks, although some of the women were dressed as exotically as Arciana. With many shouts of protest, all the captured men were ushered at the point of a sword to the left side of the curtain where they would await their individual sale. Meanwhile, a short little man with a papyrus scroll and ink quill studied them closely, making notes of how much each should be worth based on their physical strengths. The woman and children were ushered to the right side, yet another little man with a papyrus scroll and ink quill evaluating their value based on their looks. It was of course well known men were most usually sold into hard manual labor, where as women were house maids, whose only real purpose was to be pleasing in bed. The auctioneer stepped out from behind the curtain, signifying to the audience below him to cease all noise and be quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen. May I take this opportunity to welcome you tonight. For many of you, it will be a night worth remembering. Though it be known my brother and I hold the finest auctions this side of the Neroean Mountains, I must say we have outdone ourselves. Tonight we will be offering you the finest slaves in all the kingdom! Strong young men, all the way from the distant lands to plow your crops, build your houses, transport your goods. Fine young children, small enough to dart around the tightest corners to accomplish any task. And let us not forget, the fairest beauties the distant lands have to offer. Their supple bodies and foreign ways are sure to sate your every desire. If their are any jealous wives here tonight, I bid you take your husband straight home this instant, if you do not wish to share him." Many chuckles were heard through out the crowd. Only Hawk was amused. Shawn and Brady found the auctioneer rather appalling. The red curtain was pulled back, and the first male slave was shoved on stage, bound in chains held by one of the guards. "May I present to you the first of many fine specimens tonight. This one shows a fighting strength that could for sure shame that of Hercules. Lets start the bidding at 75 gold pieces." The dark headed young man sold fairly quickly, as did most of the males the slavers had to offer. Hawk seemed enthusiastic, awaiting the exotic beauties promised. Shawn, who agreed with his ancestors that slavery was inhuman and immoral, was this close to strangling Hawk for even suggesting he come along to witness the auction. When Hawk had made a move to bid on the first blonde-haired female who was brought out, Shawn nearly ripped Hawk's hand off, telling him to not even think about it. Brady ignored both of them and his surroundings. He seemed to be focusing on the curtain, although he couldn't for the life of him tell why. It was if he was drawn to that curtain, or rather, something, or someone, behind it.

"Lord Hawk, please let us go now. The auction is near over, and I've already told you I forbid you to buy another human being in my presence. If you'd wished to honestly buy one of these girls here, then you should not have brought me along," Shawn stated firmly. Hawk waved his friend off.

"I'm not leaving until the auction is over. You may go if you wish," Hawk replied flatly. "Tell 'em, Brady old boy. We want to see the end of the auction, do we not? I have yet to see any woman who I've found truly unique."

"See if you can talk some sense into him and get him to let us out of this hell hole, Brady," Shawn pleaded. Brady had barely heard a word. He kept his mind focused on the red curtain. "Brady? Are you even listening?"  
"What?" Brady asked, caught off guard. He shook his head, attempting to clear his mind. Kings trained to be ever alert and focused didn't completely lose themselves in such a manner, especially for something so unknown! "Oh, right. I hate to disappoint, Shawn, but... I want to stay to the end as well."

"What! You hate these things as much as I do!" Shawn protested. Hawk grinned, slapping Brady on the back.

"Knew you'd come around, Brady old boy," Hawk stated proudly.

"Oh do shut up, Hawk. I'm only staying because I'm drawn..." it was then he saw her. From behind the curtain, the same guard that accompanied all the other women brought Arciana out onto the stage to be presented before the buyers.

"Ah, we have truly saved the best for last. Gentlemen, may I present to you this rare beauty, brought to us from the farthest corners of the distant lands. She was raised in a village of strong Amazonian women, never before touched by the hands of man. A rare, untamed beauty indeed." The auctioneer explained, making up his story as he went along. He frankly didn't give a damn where the quiet raven-haired maiden came from, as long as she fetched him a large sum of money. "See how she holds herself with such dignity? She presents herself as royalty would, never struggling like her fellow maidens and country men. This beauty is far above that. Let us start the bidding at a mere 50 gold pieces." Immediately, Lord Wesley raised up a hand, signify he wished to bid on the raven-haired maiden. Lord Wesley rarely attended slave auctions, but when he did, he generally walked away with the most slaves in his possession. He owned a large farm, closer to the southern mountain borders. He would buy many men to plow the fields and harvest the crops. But he often bought females as well to tend to his pampered wife's every need. "We have a bidder for 50, but come come now. Surely such a fine lady such as this is worth more then a mere 50 gold pieces. Why, that price would be thought of as pocket changes once you got this fair maiden in your grasp. Come now, do I hear 55?" Another man across the way raised up his hand, calling the bid. Brady noticed none of this. From the moment she had been brought out, King Brady became completely mesmerized in her shimmering blue eyes. Her body was stunning, yes. But it was her eyes that held him so firmly. Though to any other on looker, they would appear shallow, hallow and unseeing with shock. But oh, not to Brady. The look in those eyes almost perfectly mirrored the emotions he saw too often in his own eyes. The shimmering blue pools were a window to her soul, and what he saw was amazing purity, scared by years of suffering and pain. Just like himself. Those eyes held such intriguing, mesmerizing mystery. A mystery Brady instantly knew he must solve. Both Hawk and Shawn caught the way their friend was looking at the slave currently up for bid. They shared a questioning look, wondering what could have possibly gotten into their usually level- headed companion. "Now I have 65, who will give me 70?"

"100," Brady suddenly broke out above the crowd.

"Ho ho, a man who knows what he wants, and intends to get it. I have 100. Who will give me 110?"

"Brady, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Shawn whispered harshly, obviously shocked. Brady ignored him, waving him off. He had to win her. No matter how wrong he believed the buying and selling of human life to be, he could not allow her to fall into any other's hands. Not without solving the mystery behind those haunting blue eyes.

"150," called Lord Wesley.

"200," Brady countered. For the first time, Arciana looked up slightly, looking out over the crowd. Memories of the first auction she had been part of flashed before her, bringing a surge of fear. How could this possibly be happening again? She knew better then to run. It was not the chains around her wrist that bound her, but fear of the guards whip. As a child, she had attempted to run, and had been beaten to the brink of death for such an attempt. A silent tear rolled down her delicate cheek, the large crowd before her blurring out of sight. Until her teary eyes met the gaze of a tall, blonde-haired man, standing beside 2 other men in the back. She'd long since blocked out all the bidding calls, but his voice had come in clearly. He was bidding on her. Arciana shuddered, the entire truth about being sold yet again hitting her. It was really happening. This was no nightmare. This, was hell.

"I have 200, who will give me 225?" Lord Wesley raised his hand, eyeing the new-comer out of the corner of his eye. If he thought Lord Craig Wesley could be beaten so easily, he was deathly wrong.

"500," Brady called firmly, weary of Lord Wesley's counter-bids. Ok, so there was one thing that could beat Craig Wesley, and that was money. No raven-haired maiden, no matter how stunningly beautiful, was worth 500 gold pieces. The auctioneer took a moment to recover; he knew she had been worth a great sum, but not that great of a sum!

"500. I have 500 gold pieces. Does anyone wish to go higher?" He didn't need to ask. He knew no one would. "Going once... going twice... congratulations, young man. She's all yours." Brady breathed a silent sigh of relief, catching Arciana's gaze. Their eyes locked, but Arciana refused to see the good, kind soul that lay underneath the deep pain in her new owners eyes. They were all the same. This one would be no different. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes the auction. All those wishing to pick up their slaves may meet us around back at the carts. Bring full payment, and let us know if you will need them transported for you." The auctioneer instructed. The people started to file out, those that hadn't bid leaving for their homes, and those that had pushing forward to finish the deal and pay for their slaves. Brady made a move to follow, but Shawn caught his arm.

"What is the meaning of this, Brady? I was lead to believe you disagreed with slavery as firmly as I, even though you could not ban it because of the war. Have those morals changed?" Shawn questioned. Brady shook his head, pushing Shawn's hand off his shoulders.

"No, old friend, they have not," was all Brady would say before turning away to follow the others who had to claim their slaves. Shawn was about to follow, when Hawk stopped him. For the first time in his life, Hawk said something intelligent.

"No, Shawn. Don't. It's the girl. Whoever she is, she's caught Brady's attention. Leave him be," Hawk stated. Shawn turned without replying to watch his friend disappear behind the red curtain. Brady, unsure of what to do, stood back, allowing the other men who'd won slaves in the auction to finish their business and make arrangements for transportation. Finally, after Lord Wesley had left, the auctioneer stepped towards Brady, a bright, greedy grin on his face.

"Ah, there you are. Fine catch you have got yourself young man. She will serve you well no doubt, no matter the request," the auctioneer stated, an impish grin on his face. Brady had to refrain himself from allowing his true disgust to show as he unhooked the brown leather pouch on his belt, shoving it in the auctioneers hands.

"There's 500. Count it if you wish," Brady said, trying not to sneer at the disgusting little man.

"No no, I trust your judgment, stranger. You are new here, I believe. A clean slate. Such... generosity is appreciated here. Now, would you wish to arrange for the young maiden to be delivered somewhere for you?"

"No, I'll take her with me. No other arrangements needed." The auctioneer nodded, waving his hand to signal his brother to come forward, the chained Arciana in tow. She no longer seemed so shocked and lost, but she would not meet her new owners gaze, perhaps for fear she would begin to feel secure in those amazingly blue eyes. "Remove the shackles," Brady ordered.

"But sir..."  
"I said... remove the shackles," Brady repeated firmly. The man shook his head, but signaled for his brother to comply.

"As you wish. Of course, if she runs, you will not receive a refund." Brady just rolled his eyes, awaiting impatiently for the auctioneers brother to free Arciana from her shackles. She thought of running, knowing that since the slavers had their money, they would not care what happened to her from here on. But when Brady offered his hand to her, all thought of running vanished.

"A lady should never have to be bound in shackles," Brady said softly, offering her his hand. Arciana finally met his gaze. She didn't feel as if he was her owner. It was clear he was giving her the opportunity to run if she so choose. One look in his eyes told her he would not chase her should she run. Hesitantly, Arciana reached out to take his offered hand, her mind screaming for her to not be so stupid. But her body would not comply. She had to suppress a gasp of surprise at the electric shock that radiated through her arm at his touch.

"Are you sure you do not want to take this with you, just in case? 500 gold pieces is a lot to loose on a runaway," the auctioneer stated, holding out a whip although he really couldn't care less. Arciana's eyes widened, and she ripped her hand from Brady's gentle grasp. Brady gave the man a warning look, waving it off.

"I'm sure," Brady said through gritted teeth. The man nodded, holding the coin bag tightly in his grubby little hands as he and his brother departed. Brady took a slow step forward, holding out his hand again. "Please, don't be frightened. I'm not going to hurt you," Brady assured gently. Arciana was not convinced, despite the sincerity she felt in Brady's gaze, backing away slightly. Brady sighed, turning his attention to the court square entrance. "You see, there? You can leave here now, run far away from here if you wish, and I won't stop you. I may have given that man 500 gold pieces to release you... but I could never, ever own you. Nor would I ever desire to. If you choose, you can leave now," Brady stated. Arciana eyed the entrance longingly, willing her feet to take her there. But they would not listen. Brady again held out his hand. "Or, you can come with me. It is your choice. Go, or stay with me." Arciana willed her arm to stop. But no, it would not listen either. Slowly, she reached up to take his hand again, this time accustomed to the shock wave of electricity his touch brought. Brady's larger hand closed around hers, and he smiled reassuringly at her. This part was over. Now, the hard part lay ahead of him; unlocking the mystery behind those enchanting eyes...


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Darkness began to settle around them as Brady led Arciana through the quiet streets of Nero. Every time they crossed paths with anyone, be it man, woman, or child, Arciana involuntarily pulled closer to Brady. She didn't know who he was, or why he seemed so gentle and so unlike anyone else she had ever known. But at least with him she felt safe. The thoughts that she might grow to feel totally secure with her new master scared her, perhaps even more so then the sight of Lord Paul, coming home drunk, finding fault in everything she did or said.

"Where are you taking me, Master?" Arciana asked quietly, half afraid to speak. When she spoke without being spoken to under Lord Paul's ownership, she usually was beaten and locked in a small, confining cupboard until Paul found use for her, be it physical labor, or making up for whatever fault she had committed with sexual acts. Arciana shivered at the memory; that cupboard felt more like a cage which should be used to imprison wild or disobedient animals. It had been the greatest relief when Brandon, finally fed up with his father's mistreatment of women, slave or otherwise, set that damned cupboard on fire.

"For starters, I would ask that you not call me 'Master.' I paid for your freedom. But I could never own you," Brady stated again. "I am going to my... home now. But you are free to go wherever you wish. You may come with me, or you can go wherever it is you want to go. If you do come with me, you will be given a room, new clothing, and food and drink. But the length of your stay is entirely up to you," Brady continued. Arciana just nodded, unwilling to believe that someone would pay that much money to own her, then set her free. "If you so choose, I can arrange safe passage for you back to your home, wherever that may be. All I ask, is that you never call me 'Master,' or think of me as your owner."

"Then what am I to call you?" Arciana inquired. Brady hesitated, uncertain of her reaction to his true identity. "Well? What shall I call you, if not Master?"

"Brady," Brady answered quietly. Arciana stopped dead in her tracks.

"Brady? As in..." No, it couldn't be! This gentle, obviously caring and courteous young man could not be King Brady Black of Nero, the only son of the very man responsible for her seizure from the safety of her home, not to mention the years of torture under Lord Paul's ownership. As if to confirm her suspicions, a male voice called out to Brady from a tavern they'd just passed.

"Yo, Kingy, wait up!" Hawk called loudly, pulling himself free of the red-haired female companion from earlier and pushing Shawn along with him to catch up with Brady and the slave woman he'd bought. "Yowsar! Brady my man, you sure know how to pick 'em. Must be that royal blood coursing through your veins." Arciana turned to face Brady in total disbelief.

"You... you're..." Arciana stammered. Brady sighed, dropping his arm from her comfortable grasp. Breaking physical contact with her felt almost like dying, and yet, a surge of electricity still seemed to flow through her into him by a strong, unseen connection.

"Yes. I am Brady Black, King of Nero," Brady confirmed solemnly. Whomever said it was good to be the King was sadly mistaken. Arciana stood speechless, uncaring of the few onlookers, some attracted to the scene itself, others drawn to gawk at the young beauty's provocative clothing. So, that was it. That was why he seemed so polite and gentlemanly. He was no gentleman, but a manipulative deceiving bastard like his father. Out of no where, Arciana drew her arm back, delivering a stinging slap across Brady's face.

"Bastard!" Arciana yelled. She quickly turned on her heel, running in the opposite direction from which they'd just come. Brady, his hand on his reddening cheek, pulled himself out of his shock enough to call out to her.

"Please, wait!" Brady called. He almost started after her when he remembered his promise not to pursue her should she run.

"Busted," Hawk laughed, slapping Brady on the back. That was before he saw the utter despair in his friend's eyes, giving him an idea. "Hey, wait a minute. Nobody treats a King like that and gets away with it." With that, he dashed off in hot pursuit of Arciana.

"Hawk, no!" Brady commanded, storming after Hawk and leaving a rather confused Shawn in the dust. Hawk paid not heed to the King's order, picking up the pace. Arciana was fast, darting through the few villagers out and about in the market place and a few stray carts. But not fast enough. Hawk grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around in his arms as she let out a shrill scream.

"Let go of me!" Arciana demanded. Hawk just ignored her cries, pushing her roughly against the wall of some Inn or such, keeping a firm grasp on her wrists.

"They sure do make 'em feisty in the distant lands. Come now, sweet thing. Slapping a king is unacceptable. You will have to plead for forgiveness," Hawk stated. Of course, even he would not treat a woman like a possession to be forced to do what you demand of them. No, woman should want his affection--beg for it even. But he had to do something to keep the maiden from fleeing, and to make Brady out to be the hero he truly was. Any second now...

"Hawk," Brady practically growled as he came up behind his life long friend. "Get your hands off her now," Brady demanded. Hawk waved the command off yet again, keeping his back to his friend.

"Why? She is your slave after all. Got to teach her to have some respect for her Royal Master," Hawk stated, playing up the slave owner gig. Oh, how he loved playing matchmaker! Brady reached down to his brown leather boot, retrieving a dagger. He stood straight, raising the dagger dangerously close to the small of Hawk's back.

"She is not a slave anymore, Hawk. Now, get your filthy hands off her and let her go, or you will personally get to test out your theories of life after death," Brady growled. Hawk grinned, a grin of pure satisfaction and victory. Although of course Brady missed the look, Arciana did not. But she was too frightened to ponder it's meaning. Hawk turned to face Brady, concealing his look of satisfaction and keeping a tight grip on Arciana's right wrist.

"Would you fight me for her?" Hawk asked, a cocky smirk on his face. Brady lifted his eyebrow in question. What was Hawk getting at this time? He'd known this man most of his life. Even he, womanizer that he was, would never treat a person in such a manner. What was the game now? "Well, come on then. Would you fight for the freedom of one measly slave? Risk your life for this nameless stranger?" Hawk inquired.

"Yes, I would," Brady answered honestly. Despite the many years he had allowed slavery to continue, only for the sake of maintaining the crucial support of Nero's rich lords, Brady detested the sale and purchase of human life, even those slaves who were captured Muccheans. Yet another issue that drove him on in his vow to put an end to this pointless war once and for all. Perhaps now with the banding together of Nero, Rubino, and Supervisore, Brady could ban slavery in Nero without concern of being unable to fund the costly war. Hawk grinned, sharply releasing Arciana.

"Now, that's a King," Hawk said, an amused smile on his face. Brady, however, was not amused. He replaced his dagger in his boot, before grabbing Hawk by the collar of his showy orange and purple shirt, pulling him roughly away from Arciana. Ignoring the onlookers who were still gawking at the scene-- which would later be gossiped about as a brawl between a provocative woman's husband and secret lover-- Brady shoved Hawk up against a cart opposite the Inn.

"Don't you ever pull something like that again, Hawk," Brady commanded.

"Hey, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do," Hawk laughed, knowing Brady would take the comment as something perverse and sexual rather then it's true meaning. Brady narrowed his eyes at Hawk, pushing him away in disgust. He turned to apologize for Hawk's behavior, only to find that the mystery slave woman had disappeared. Brady's heart fell. Served him right he supposed for believing anyone who had been taken from their home and forced into the servitude of slavery would open up to him, love him. Wait... love? Where had that come from? Brady sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm going back to the palace now, Hawk. Inform Shawn he is more then welcome to stay at the palace. It would probably be the best choice," Brady informed, before turning away from Hawk and beginning his lonely trek home. Hawk caught the sad look on his friends face before he turned to go. But Hawk just smiled his symphony. Why would he be so insensitive? Why, because unlike Brady, Hawk had seen the mysterious young woman disappear. She hadn't disappeared at all actually, only hid in a small, dark alleyway up the street. Up the street, in the direction Brady was heading. With any luck, Hawk's plan to strike the young slave woman's curiosity would be just enough to get her interested in getting to know the real Brady Black...

Arciana observed Brady closely from her hiding place behind some crates in the alleyway. Every instinct in her being told her to turn tail and run as far away from Nero as she could get. No good could ever come to her in this place. But, even through the growing darkness, Arciana could see the look of total despair in Brady's eyes when he turned to discover her missing. That look, like all his hopes and dreams had been shattered in an instant, appeared so like the look Arciana saw in her own eyes every time she observed herself, and the bruises or cuts left by Lord Paul, in a mirror. Those eyes, the window to his soul, showed such pain and misery, much like her own. Such raw, guarded emotion could never be faked; Brady was truly suffering inside, for reasons known perhaps only to him. Until she heard him defend her, a stranger, to Hawk, and saw the pure agony behind the mask Brady kept up to give an image of a strong-willed king, Arciana had thought a member of the Black family could be nothing but a cold-hearted monster. Such belief was wrong she supposed. Being the daughter of Victor Kiriakis, who, in her eyes, was no better a man then John Black, the man responsible for her enslavement, left her with little right to judge solely by name. But Arciana was not raised by her true family passed the age of 8, thanks to Brady Black's father. Brady, on the other hand, was raised within the boundaries of his kingdom by his birth father, up until John's death 5 years ago.

Despite all urge to stay as far away from the Blacks as possible, Arciana was also drawn to Brady by some unseen electric force. Going against every instinct she'd acquired from her life of enslavement, Arciana quietly slipped out of the alleyway, careful to stay hidden from sight. Brady was just ahead of her now, trudging at a slow steady pace, undoubtedly to his palace. Arciana slowly crept forward, pressing against the building to remain in the darkest shadows of the night before ducking behind a vendors cart. When she felt safe enough to do so, she followed a few more feet, taking refugee behind two wooden baby cradles in front of the carpenter's shop. This method of following Brady continued until Brady made a surprising turn; left, away from the castle. Arciana watched him walk down an alleyway, towards the woods, before she followed. Brady entered the dark woods, putting himself on a narrow, barely visible path between the many rows of trees. Arciana slipped into the coverage of the trees, still behind Brady and to the left side of the narrow path. She kept an eye out, making sure she kept Brady in her sight, and making certain not to step on anything that might alert her presence. What she didn't know was that Brady didn't need to hear or see her to know she was there. He had felt her presence ever since she began to follow him. Brady couldn't for the life of him figure out why she would follow him after the scene she had made, but he wasn't complaining. Perhaps he still had a chance to unravel the mystery behind those enchanting blue eyes. About halfway to his destination, Brady spoke.

"Stalking a Royal _is_ a crime you know," Brady stated. Arciana jumped at the sound; how had he known she was there? "If you are going to follow me, might I at least know the name of my stalker?" Brady inquired. Arciana hesitated. Perhaps if she stayed quiet, he would think her gone. Instead, Brady stopped walking and turned instinctively in the direction he knew she was hiding. "You know mine, now. It's only fair that I know yours." Hesitantly, Arciana stepped out of the safety of the trees and onto to narrow path where Brady could see her. The pale light of the moon illuminated off her golden outfit in such a way that she appeared heavenly, the rays of white light highlighting every luscious curve of her gorgeous body.

"Arciana," she replied. True, not her real name. No, she stopped being Chloe Kiriakis 14 years ago. Lord Paul had never referred to her by any other name but "you stupid bitch" or "my precious little whore." But Brandon had given her the name Arciana when she refused to tell him her real name. After that, the name stuck with her, even through her move to the freedom of Rubino. Brady studied her carefully, surveying a mixture of fear and uncertainty, while trying his hardest not to linger on her amazingly luscious... assets. He could read the lie in her eyes and voice the moment she spoke it. She was no Arciana. Most likely a name given to her by a former owner. But he wouldn't press the matter. He would find out her true name, sooner or later.

"Arciana. That is a very lovely name," Brady complimented, causing Arciana to shift nervously. "Well, Arciana, if your plan is to attack me again, I would ask that you not bother. Your initial blow was more then enough to forever crush my ego, and I shall have the bruise to prove it for quite some time," Brady stated. Arciana frowned, visibly regretful of her outburst. What right had she to judge him for his father's actions? It was true that her father Victor had died at Brady's hand. Everyone knew that. But everyone also knew that Victor had died in battle after dishonorably slaying young Isabella Black, who was honored in Nero as a true hero for her efforts to bring about peace for Nero as well as for Mucche. Brady's only actions against the Kiriakis family had been honorable ones. Lucas and Austin, her older brothers, had both died at Brady's hand during 2 separate battles. And yet, there deaths had been far more honorable then many of the slaying's the Kiriakis family had bestowed on the Black family. She had no reason to hate Brady. John had been the one to stoop to kidnaping defenseless children in his quest for vengeance. If Brady should forever suffer for his father's dishonorable actions, then so should she. Of course, she had been suffering all her life. But even though she did not know him, she knew from his shimmering, pained eyes that Brady Black had suffered as well. Arciana boldly stepped forward, stepping up to face King Brady.

"I am sorry for that," Arciana stated honestly. She brought her hands up to his face, gently brushing against the red mark on Brady's cheek. "I had no right, and I apologize."

"It's quite alright. I'm rather used to people hating me. Most aren't kind enough to merely slap me," Brady replied. His face burned and tingled, but not from her slap. Rather, he felt the electricity surging through him once again at her touch.

"I do not hate you. I haven't the right. You can't hate someone you don't know. Or at least, you shouldn't," Arciana replied. Arciana paused, looking deep into his eyes, despite her instincts telling her not to. "Are you really King Brady?" How could someone who seemed so... kind, yet so tortured, be a Black?

"Judging by your initial reaction, do you really think that's something I'd make up?" Brady answered, slowly reaching up to take her hand, reluctantly moving it away from his rather sore cheek. "It's not always good to be the king." Arciana looked down, away from his intoxicating blue eyes. Perhaps she did know that. Had she been raised in her rightful home, she would be Queen of Mucche now, ruling at her brother's side after their father's death. A fate she never wanted to bare. She would rather be fleeing from slavery all her life then become a true Mucchean; she could never, and would never agree with what her so called family stood for.

"I suppose you have many enemies along with the lavish royal life of yours," Arciana murmured.

"Many enemies, yes. Lavish life? No. No possessions can make up for the things I don't have," Brady stated, not even trying to hold back the inner sorrow he kept hidden behind a mask, for the sake of his kingdom. He felt he could never hide from this women, even if he wanted to. Of course, he didn't want to. He wanted to know her, and for once in his life, knew within an instant he was ready to allow someone to truly know him. It scared him, and yet felt so right. Arciana drew back slightly, perhaps for the first time realizing how close she was to Brady. "Well, Arciana. Despite the fact that I'm still not so sure you would appreciate the gesture, my offer does still stand. I would be honored if you would accompany me to the palace, where you can eat, bathe, and have a good nights rest. And I'll imagine you will wish to get out of those... interesting garments," Brady commented. Arciana blushed slightly, looking down at herself. Not only was she more then a bit dirty from her struggle with the slavers in Rubino, her... assets were barely covered by the almost non-existent flashy garment. She looked from her appearance back up to Brady, involuntarily biting her lip nervously. Should she? After all, what could it hurt? He certainly meant her no harm, or he would have let his disgusting little friend Hawk have his way with her. And he didn't know who she really was. As long as he never found out, Arciana could feel safe. Plus, he had offered to provide safe passage back to her home. Maybe she could get him to give her safe passage back to Rubino, or perhaps she would try Supervisore or Arcadia this time, or even somewhere in the distant lands.

"Well..." Arciana started. Brady's slightly solemn, hopeless look formed into a devious smile at the tone in her voice. She was instantly hooked; God, if he wasn't a Black... "I really do need to get out of this stupid, rather uncomfortable thing. And I could use a safe place to sleep. No safer place in Nero then your palace I suppose. You did say you could provide passage back to my home, didn't you?" Brady's hopeful grin slipped in cheerfulness some, but he nodded.

"Yes, if you so choose to leave, I will be more then happy to make arrangements for safe passage," Brady answered, although he would be anything but happy about the mystery woman leaving his life so soon, this time for good.

"Well then, since I know you can afford it..." Arciana smiled slightly, causing his grin to return again, "I suppose I'll take you up on your offer. Thank you."

"No no, my dear, thank you," Brady replied. Arciana looked confused as Brady held out his arm for her to take once more. "Gets lonely in a palace with only stuffy council men to converse with. It shall be refreshing to have someone to partake in intelligent conversation with that doesn't revolve around how I should rule my country." Arciana nodded, resting her hand in the crook of his offered arm.

"Intelligent conversation, huh? So, are you really one for intelligent, meaningful conversation, or do you just think you must be smart because you're a king?" Arciana asked. Brady chuckled, over-joyed to see her being so carefree and at ease with him, rather then uncomfortable and nervous as she had been before after the slave auction.

"I suppose we shall see, won't we?" Brady replied. Arciana smiled as they began to walk. She didn't know just what lay behind that mask he wore yet, but she'd already made up her mind; before she left in the morning, she was going to find out all she could...

"What is this place?" Arciana asked, clinging closer to Brady in the pitch black tunnel. After she had decided to take him up on her offer, Brady had lead her along the path through the woods until they came to a hillside. On the side of the tall hill, was a huge boulder. But, although it may have appeared huge, Arciana found it to be almost weightless when Brady pushed it aside with ease, revealing a large hole in the ground. And stairs. She found the place so unsettling, for reasons that went even beyond the obvious. It was as though she had been there before, though she knew for certain that was not possible. But if it were, she knew somehow she hadn't liked this place then, and so she feared it greatly now.

After helping her down the few steps to the bottom of the tunnel, which she found to be not dirt, but some sort of hard, gray material, Brady pushed the "boulder" back into it's place, leaving them in total darkness. Brady took hold of her arm, leading her confidently through the tunnel even though she couldn't see her hand in front of her face.

"A system of tunnels built by my ancestors. See... well, of course you can't see, but did you see the gray material that made up the floor?" Brady asked.

"Yes, I did. What is it?"

"It's called concrete. The inventors of my ancestor's time were true geniuses. They constructed this tunnel system should it ever be needed for an evacuation of the city. Instead of old tunnels, which were supported only by wooden beams, these tunnels are lined with the concrete. Reinforced, my father used to refer to them as. This tunnel leads into a room of the palace, near the dungeons."

"But, why would you have to use this tunnel to get into the palace? You're the King!" Arciana inquired. Although she did find the history of the concrete interesting, the mention of Brady's father had rather turned her off from learning more.

"Well, I may be King, but it's not exactly customary, or accepted, for me to join my people without guards around me. Which is why I choose to go out in disguise, using these tunnels. Of course, now, I'm trusting you to keep my little secret," Brady prompted. Arciana had to smile at his childish tone.

"Secret's safe with me," Arciana returned. They continued on through the tunnel system, making small talk as there was little else to do along the way. For once in her life, Arciana trusted Brady to lead her safely through the dark. She had never truly trusted anyone, not even dear Brandon. That frightened her, yet she would not fight it. In the morning, she would leave, and not have to worry about the things this near stranger made her feel. Finally, they came to the end of the tunnel. Brady stepped forward, pushing aside the slab of concrete with his shoulder. He climbed out, reaching a hand back in to help Arciana out. Soon they were both standing in a sparse, cold room. The only feature that gave the room any color was a red curtain and a large brown chest, which no doubt was made to hold clothing.

"Would you excuse me a moment? I have to change back into the "monkey suit" as I've grown to call it," Brady stated. There were certain clothing he was expected to wear; he had to always be dressed in the honored family colors. Black, of course, as well as blue and purple. He hated being told where to go and how to dress. But, alas, that was the sacrifice of being born into a royal family. One of the many sacrifices he'd had to endure... Arciana just nodded, taking her hand from his hold and letting him walk over to the chest. Brady pulled out his clothing, and stepped behind the red curtain to dress. Arciana attempted to look around the room, to concentrate on anything else but the handsome man stripping behind nothing but a red curtain. She also couldn't help be feel fear. Old habits die hard, she supposed. "I would prepare yourself for quite a few... shocked reactions. The council is not going to approve."

"Then why did you offer?" Arciana asked curiously, concentrating a bit to hard on the room's one wooden door.

"They disapprove of everything I do. I'm used to it," Brady replied with a slight chuckle, tossing his brown vest over the curtain to land near the chest. Arciana again had to fight the urge to fantasize as more clothing was tossed towards the wooden chest. "I'd ask that you try not to be offended by any comments that come your way. You are dressed rather... provocatively. But I don't wish for you to be offended by the close minded opinions of my council members. Hopefully no one will catch sight of us until you are in more... proper attire."

"Not much offends me these days," Arciana murmured. After a few more moments and a rustling of the curtain, Brady stood beside her. He almost took her breath away, though she'd never admit it even to herself. He somehow seemed so much taller now in his royal clothing. Larger then life, perhaps. And yet, he did not seem himself at all. These new clothes, though handsome, albeit intimidating, made him out to be something she knew he was not.

"Still, if anyone says something to upset you in any way while you are here, let me know. I shall deal with them accordingly," Brady stated, offering his arm to her. He opened the wooden door with his other hand, revealing a dreary corridor, lit by torches on the wall that lead to a stone staircase. "Ready for your grand entrance, Mistress Arciana?" Brady asked, turning his head to flash a gorgeous half grin at her. Arciana merely nodded, again resting her hand in the crook of his arm. Brady quietly led her up the stairway, and up yet two more before they were past the dreary dungeon to the elaborately decorated hallways of the Black family Palace. Arciana silently marveled at the full suits of armor, eloquently painted portraits, and priceless vases and other such treasures they passed along the way. They were nearly to the main hall before someone finally stopped them. Though they had passed many guards, who eyed Arciana with either disgust or sexual hunger, Lady Cynthia, the daughter of the richest and most esteemed councilman in Brady's Royal Council, was the first to stop them.

"Your Majesty, might I have a word with you?" asked Lady Cynthia sweetly, so unlike her true venomous nature. "In private," Cynthia added, her sugary sweet smile turning into a sneer of disgust as she glanced at Arciana. Arciana was as equally displeased as Cynthia; though she was dressed in a proper but low-cut dress, the woman just oozed sex and trouble. She was the kind you would never turn your back to, least you find a dagger in it.

"Would you excuse me a moment?" Brady asked Arciana quietly, noticing her instant dislike for Cynthia. He couldn't blame her. Brady loathed the troublesome deceiving temptress with a passion. Arciana nodded politely, letting her hand drop from its comfortable position in the crook of his arm. She felt a twinge of regret, as if her body missed the delightful current of energy physical contact with Brady brought her. Brady stepped forward, lightly grasping Cynthia's arm and leading her further up the corridor, but not completely out of earshot. "What is it, Lady Cynthia?" Brady demanded warily, his voice dripping with sarcasm at the word "lady." Cynthia was no lady; cheap whore fit her personality better.

"What do you think you're doing, bringing your trashy dates here to the palace?" Cynthia hissed. Like Hawk, Cynthia held little respect for the title which Brady held. Hawk respected his friend for the person he was underneath the "monkey suit" and title. Cynthia respected what lay beneath Brady's clothing as well, but in a far different sense. All men were good for only one thing in her eyes. "I mean, I understand when a king's gotta get some now and then, but my father will never tolerate the palace being a haven for your cheap whores." Brady had to suppress the burst of laughter threatening to overcome him at her sense of hypocritical irony. Instead he kept a stern, serious face.

"Why, Lady Cynthia, how dreadful of you to speak such despicable things of my honored guest. I should not tolerate you speaking so disrespectfully about Princess Arciana."

"That's a princess?" Cynthia burst out, pointing accusingly at Arciana. "Why of course. Do you really think a commoner could wear such an elaborate outfit made from gold silk?" Brady asked. "This, Lady Cynthia, is Princess Arciana, come to us as a diplomat from the distant lands." Brady lied in such a prideful manner that if Arciana didn't know otherwise, even she would have believed it. Brady pulled the protesting Cynthia back to face Arciana. "Now, Lady Cynthia, I must ask that you apologize to the Princess this instant. I have enough trouble on my hands as it is without dealing with a war against the distant lands because of your rude, manner-less behavior." Cynthia eyed Brady through narrow slits, obviously loathing his power over her. Despite her hatred for him at the moment, Cynthia obeyed Brady's command; she didn't want to lose her source of funds because of some stuffy trash. With utter disgust, Cynthia curtsied politely, forcing back the sneer she felt was beginning to form. "I beg your forgiveness, Princess. I did not mean to offend. Your clothes are so unusual for Neroean society. I assumed the worst of you. I am sorry. I hope I did not offend you, your Highness," Cynthia lied as honestly and courteously as she could manage. While Cynthia's head was bowed in false modesty, Arciana flashed Brady a thankful grin, who returned with his own deliously sly grin that just screamed "Am I good or what?" Arciana forced the playful grin away, standing as tall and regal as she could manage.

"Please arise." Cynthia did so gladly. "No offense was made, my dear. I understand that my culture is difficult from yours. I had some difficulties on my journey, which is why I must look a mess. There is no need for apologies. I understand your mistake," Arciana stated in a bold, wise and regal tone. She was surprised how regal she actually did sound. She supposed it must have been repressed memories of how a proper lady should speak that were now coming to the surface.

"Thank you, Princess," Cynthia said sweetly, forcing another "humble" curtsey of "respect."

"Now, with that settled," Brady interrupted. "Cynthia, would you be so kind as to seek out Harold and ask him to meet with me in the Throne Room?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. It would be my pleasure," Cynthia lied. Anything to get away from this. Besides, although immune to her charms, Harold was very easy on the eyes. Cynthia turned and was halfway down the hall when Brady called out to her.

"Oh, and Cynthia?" Brady called. Cynthia stopped, turning her head to look back at Brady and Arciana. "Lord Hawk asked me to inform you that he is a little short on funds right now, but he will get you the money for last nights... "services" as soon as possible." Cynthia's face turned bright red with rage. She stormed off as quickly as she could, a loud "grrrrrrrrr"ing sound signifying her hurried exit. Both Arciana and Brady burst out laughing at the look on Cynthia's face. Elsewhere, Cynthia stopped just outside of the conference room where she knew Harold was still discussing boring ideas with Lord and Lady Deveraux. She had half a mind not to deliver Brady's message. But then he would tell her father, and she couldn't have that. She leaned against the doorframe, still flushed with rage as she glared back in the direction she came.

"That, was no Princess. I don't care what kind of a show that so called King puts on. I'm going to get to the bottom of this. And when I do, I'm going to make Brady Black and his little tramp wish they were never even born. No one treats me that way and gets away with it," Cynthia vowed venomously, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. Had anyone been in the hallway with her, they would have instantly noticed the distinctive tattoo on the base of her neck, which was normally well hidden by her hair. The tattoo was all in black, consisting of a 6-pointed star enclosed in a circle. Sets of 3 equally sized dots were placed in a triangular pattern surrounding the circle, as were 3 curvy lines with accent marks. Anyone, no matter rich, poor, well educated, or illiterate could have immediately told you the meaning of the bold symbol. In the ancient language, it meant Mucche volontà alzarsi a vittoria. Translation: Mucche shall rise to victory, the mantra of all Mucchean nobles, soldiers, commoners, and a band of rebel supporters. Most of the rebels consisted of Neroean Lords and their families who were fed up with the Black Kings, although many were just commoners willing to fight for whatever side paid the highest bounties. Though her father loathed the group more then any other, Cynthia was one of the rebels. Cynthia quickly moved her hair back, covering her tattoo, before knocking on the conference room door.  
"Come in," called a male voice from inside. Cynthia opened the door, sticking her head and upper body in the doorway.  
"Harold, King Brady wishes to meet with you in he Throne Room," Cynthia said. Harold nodded, standing up and excusing himself from the table. Cynthia disappeared without another word, but Harold most definitely didn't mind. He always hated that wench. She gave off such a disturbing vibe. That girl was going to cause a great deal of trouble one day, Harold just knew it.  
"I think you've just made a vicious enemy," Arciana stated through her giggles.  
"I think I can handle her," Brady laughed, attempting to calm his laughter. Composing himself, Brady took hold of Arciana's hand, more of a move of instinct rather then anything else. "Come now, this way. We shall wait for Harold in the Throne Room," Brady stated. Arciana nodded, allowing him to led her through the hallways, silently delighting in the flow of electricity that flowed through her at his magical touch, but scolding herself for allowing such thoughts to enter her mind.  
"Who is this Harold guy anyway?" Arciana asked curiously. "And, who was the walking bitch-on-a-stick?" Brady chuckled, turning them around a corner into another corridor.  
"Harold is my head advisor. I also prefer to send him on personal errands. Unlike the palace's many servants, Harold is here because he chooses to be and wants to be," Brady answered. That was understandable; slaves and servants rarely had any other choice. But Harold held Brady, whom he considered to be a true friend, in the highest respect. "The woman, was Lady Cynthia Banks, though there is nothing lady-like about her. Her father is Nero's richest and most powerful, Lord. Safe to say, Cynthia uses her father's status to the fullest extent. Ah, here we are," Brady announced, stopping in front of two large wooden doors with golden seals. The seals, which were also displayed on the massive wooden entrance door to the castle, form the shape of Nero's honored symbol.

Brady pulled the huge doors open, revealing the grand Throne Room. The door was situated behind the two identical thrones situated at the end of a long red carpet that seemed to go one forever. Arciana marveled at the large, vibrantly decorated Throne Room as they made there way inside. Obviously, despite the costly war, Nero managed to remain a very well off country. Or at least that's the image the room gave off. Portraits of past royal family members and amazingly detailed landscape paintings decorated the walls, along with a few large mirrors whose golden frames were accented with beautiful jewels of only the purest, perfect varying colors. Many statuettes, gold or glass figures, and other such seemingly priceless object pulled the room together.  
"Wow," Arciana breathed without thinking. Not even the wealthy Kiriakis family had had such an amazingly beautiful castle. Rather then decorating the castle with that which pleases the eye, the Kiriakis family had a tendency to surround themselves with artifacts that symbolized only the bloody wars they lived to fight. Brady smiled slightly as Arciana stepped forward and away from him to inspect her surroundings.  
"My mother redecorated this room before she passed away to suit her tastes, since she spent most of her time here. Before my mother's time, the king alone made judgments on all crimes in the public square. Mother convinced my father to eliminate that law. Now civil disputes are settled in the privacy of the Throne Room, by both the King and Queen. More serious crimes are brought to attention away from the public's eyes and ears in the new courthouse," Brady explained. It didn't take much to see how proud he was of the mother he never knew.

"Mother didn't like throwing her money around, especially when she knew people in her country were starving to death. Most of this stuff is either fake, made cheaply to look elegant and pleasing, or was given to her as a gift of friendship. Although they never met, she and my half sister were so much alike; both handed out anything of real value to poor beggars seeking to feed their families that happened along their path," Brady continued. To hear Brady speak so fondly of his lost family, Arciana's heart broke. He obviously had never done anything to deserve such torturous heartbreak. As Brady gazed at a portrait of his mother aside yet another portrait of his sister, Arciana once again caught the look of raw, usually guarded sorrow in his eyes. At that moment, she wanted to reach out to him, comfort his lose. Perhaps they could cope with their pain together. But, no. She could not. To allow him to help her deal with her own ghosts, she would have to tell him who she really was. Not the mere slave girl Arciana. But instead Chloe Kiriakis, would be Queen of Mucche. If Brady were to know that truth, he would hate her. He'd been nothing but kind to her, a first in her life. Even Brandon had not made her feel the security Brady did, and that was after knowing him for years. She had known Brady for only a matter of hours and yet felt so much safer then she ever dreamed she could. Arciana could not stand to have Brady hate her just because she was unfortunate enough to be born into the Kiriakis family. Though she had initially done that exact thing to Brady, she now knew better, and cursed herself for her former predisposition. Arciana's thoughts were distracted when she caught sight of a beautiful pink glass butterfly.

"What's that?" Arciana asked, stepping forward to reach out for the glass object. Brady was about to call for her not to touch it, when something gave him the feeling he should allow her to do so. Arciana was, for some unknown reason, drawn to that particular object.

"My mother made it. She could never find anything of glass in such a color that felt like it wanted to be in the Palace, so she learned to sculpt her own."

"Felt?" Arciana questioned, holding the butterfly lovingly in her two hands. Brady nodded.

"Yes, felt. My mother had a very unique view on life. She believed that every person and every thing would tell you where it wanted to be. Everything here in this room wants to be here. Or so my father told me my mother believed."

"You don't remember her?" Brady paused; he was sharing so much with her! After his precious Belle's death, Brady closed himself off completely to the outside world. Only his few dearest friends, Shawn, Jason, Hawk, and now Harold, knew the real Brady Black. But he would not speak a word about of his lost parents and sister, even to them. But... she was different somehow. Someone he believed he could trust, believe in. True, the chance that she would shatter what was left of his soul was very high. But she was perhaps his last chance at feeling complete again. Brady wanted only her, feeling as though it was his destiny to meet her.

"No, I don't. I was too young when she... passed away. Marlena, Isabella's mother, married my father after that. So the only motherly memories I have are of her. But, Father told me many stories of my real mother and their time together, to keep her memory alive," Brady answered, stepping up beside her. Ever so gently, Brady took the glass object from Arciana. "This was part of my favorite story. You see, my mother was very proud of this butterfly, having made it perfectly on the first try with her own two hands. Mother loved it so much, in fact, father claimed her spirit stayed inside it so she could keep her favorite possession and keep watch over her family all at the same time. I never believed that, until one day... the day that Isabella was killed. I came back here, completely crazed. I damaged a lot of items in the palace in my fit of rage, to tell the truth. And then, I picked this up, and hurled it with all my might against the wall over there. And yet, it did not break. Didn't even so much as chip. No other object, glass, wood, stone, or otherwise, could have survived that in one piece. That was when I was convinced my mother's spirit really was watching over me from her favorite glass butterfly," Brady stated. Arciana watched him closely, so unsure if she should allow him to continue. He had told her so much, and she knew in her heart she wanted to know everything about the poor, tortured man, so like herself. But, she also knew, in the morning, she would leave, adding another painful heartbreak to Brady's long list of sorrowful lose. Before she could protest, Brady pushed the butterfly back into her hands. "Here, you take it."

"What..."

"You were drawn to it, and it to you. It wants to be with you now," Brady interrupted. Arciana shook her head in protest, trying to push the object back into his hands. Seeing her turn away his heartfelt gift nearly split him in two. "Please? Mother would want you to have it

"Why are you doing all this?" Arciana whispered. Before Brady could reply, a breathless Harold burst through the wooden doors.

"Oh, thank Heavens! I thought I'd never get rid of him!" Harold breathed, without noticing Brady and Arciana at first. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he finally did notice the duo. "Oh, Your Majesty, I am sorry I took so long. Lord Jack started in on that bogus new idea of his. Imagine, being able to send a message instantaneously to anyone, anywhere, without a messenger. Ridiculous!"

"It's quite alright, Harold. Arciana and I have been having a rather intriguing conversation." Brady stated. Harold, for the first time, noticed the sexy, slightly disheveled Arciana. Of course, he didn't find her attractive in that way, but he was very curious as to who she was and why she was here.

"Ah yes, and might I ask who this delicious young lady is?" Harold asked, causing Arciana to blush, since she did not know there was no sexual meaning behind the comment.

"All you need know is her name is Arciana. Princess Arciana from the distant lands if anyone should ask, though it remains our little secret that she is not a princess. She will be staying with us tonight," Brady replied, stepping forward to usher Harold out of ear shot. "I would like you to fetch a night gown and a new set of clothing for Arciana, and bring them to the last guestroom on the left side of the hallway which hold my chambers and the royal guestrooms. Also, have some of the servants bring hot water for you to help wash and bathe her," Brady instructed. Both of them had lived so long with Harold's... sexual preference, that they thought nothing of Arciana's reaction to Brady sending a man to bathe her. Harold nodded, dismissing himself to retrieve new clothes for Arciana. He already had her perfect color in mind. She was definitely a girl made for the color purple. Brady turned back to Arciana, who was still clutching the glass butterfly with utter disbelief. "Would you like me to show you to your room now? You must be exhausted." Arciana just nodded. Brady sighed sadly, hurt that she kept herself so closed off to him, while he, for the first time in years, was being completely open with her. He took her gently by the arm, leading her out the door. "Oh, we should stop by the kitchen. I'm hungry myself, so I'm sure you must be famished.. ."

After grabbing a quick bite to eat in the kitchen, Brady led Arciana into the corridor which housed the plush guestrooms, used only for royal or high status guests, such as kings, queens, princesses, princes, and occasionally visiting lords, stopping in front of the last door on the left.

"This will be your room. You should find new clothes and a hot bath waiting for you," Brady informed, pulling open the door to her room for her to reveal a plush, elegant room. The finest, most exquisite, vibrant light woods made up all the furniture, which consisted of a large dresser, a writing desk, and a vanity with a gorgeous mirror. The bed was absolutely humongous with a black comforter over the best black satin sheets and softest pillows in the land. A beside table was on the right side of the bed, and to the right of that on the far wall was a door to the bathroom. To the left of the bed was a comfortable looking black couch built to seat 2. Portraits and landscape paintings on the walls gave the room color. "Should you need me, I will be in my chambers, going over some important documents. That's the door at the very end of the hall, just next to this room. If you need anything at all, let me know."

"Thank you," was all Arciana could manage. What could she say? She was over-whelmed by his kindness. No one had ever treated her so well and with such respect. Brady nodding, closing the door behind him, leaving Arciana alone in her room for the night. Arciana delicately set the precious glass butterfly on the vanity, picking up a brush which was laid out on the vanity beside many other objects. She turned it in her hands, silently marveling in it's simple beauty. She couldn't wait to get out of the skimpy gold outfit and into a hot bath; she felt so dirty, both because of the actual dirt left from her previous struggle with the slave traders and because of the outfit itself. Arciana set the brush down to inspect the other items; a crystal hand mirror, pins for long hair, a beautiful white rose comb with a black pearl to put in her hair, and a blue, black, and purple butterfly broach. Upon inspection of the desk, obviously provided for a male occupant, she found papyrus scrolls, writing quills, two ink bottles, and a few assorted art supplies. Arciana sighed deeply as she closed the desk drawer, skipping over the couch to approach the bed. She ran her hand along the silky soft comforter before coming to the clothes which Harold had laid out for her.

Arciana picked up the nightgown first. It was a rich, deep purple silk with thin straps. It would hang to mid-thigh when put on, and would conform to every curve on her luscious body. Arciana laid the silky smooth nightgown down, picking up her new dress. It was a light purple, with black laces and exquisite black beadwork on the bodice. The black beadwork traveled in horizontal rows to the very bottom of the dress, which would reach to the floor. Also on top of the elegant dress were matching black earrings and a pair of black shoes, since her own shoes had been stripped of her earlier at the slave auction. A tear threatened to spill down her cheek as Arciana held the dress close. How could someone who did not even know her be so kind and generous to her? What had she done to deserve such care, let alone such a precious gift as Brady's mother's pink glass butterfly, which she'd treasured so deeply while she was alive. Arciana's thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door, from which Harold emerged.

"Ah, there you are! I was beginning to wonder where you went. Come now, let us get started. First, take off those dreadfully flashy clothes..." Harold didn't get to speak any further as Arciana, misinterpreting his meaning, slapped him hard across the face.

"How dare you, you pig! Out! Get out of my room!" Arciana screamed, pushing Harold towards the door.

"But I..."

"Out!" Arciana demanded, literally shoving him out the door, where he landed flat on his ass. She then preceded to slam the door in his very startled face face. Brady was just rummaging through a stack of papers when he heard the noise. Curious, he got up and opened the door to inspect the hallway. Harold was just struggling to his feet when Brady approached.

"Harold! What happened?" Brady demanded, helping him the rest of the way

up. Harold steadied himself using Brady's shoulder as support, shaking his head to clear the fog.

"I don't think she thought I only wanted to help her bathe," Harold murmured in reply. Brady sighed, cursing his stupidity. Of course she didn't know Harold wasn't your ordinary male.

"Wait here please Harold. I'll talk to her," Brady stated, turning to face the door. He knocked lightly, but got no answer. "Arciana, it's me, Brady," he called, knocking again. Finally, when he heard her call 'Come in,' Brady opened the door, finding a fuming Arciana sitting with her arms crossed on the bed. "I am sorry..."

"Don't apologize. He's the one that should be sorry," Arciana grumbled. Brady smiled despite himself.

"Arciana, he meant no offense. I sent him here to bathe and clothe you," Brady said. Arciana still looked mad, but also a bit confused.

"You would send a man to do that, instead of a female servant?" Arciana inquired.

"I told you, I don't like asking my servants to do most things. They have to do as I say, because I am the King. Harold on the other hand does so out of friendship," Brady answered. "I am sorry about this, Arciana. I didn't realize... well, I'm so use to Harold, I forget a woman might be offended by him bathing her."

"What do you mean?' Arciana asked, no longer angry, but instead very confused. Brady chuckled, further confusing her.

"Well, let us just say, that Harold does not play from the right side of the fence when it comes to courtship," Brady replied. After a moment, realization dawned on her.

"You mean he's..." Brady nodded, confirming her unanswered question. "Oh, my... oh no, but that means that I slapped him..."

"When he was only trying to help you?" Brady finished. "Don't worry, he understands I am sure. He's been slapped by many a woman. Only usually in their case, Harold made the mistake of hitting on their husbands," Brady joked with a grin that caused Arciana to smile as well. Actually, Harold rarely hit on anyone, though he often wished to. Very few people actually knew of Harold's sexual preference, at his request. Harold always said he feared the displeasure of the townspeople should they find out their King's advisor was only attracted to men. Such behavior was not often found in Nero at the time, and was never approved of by the masses. No matter how many times Brady insisted he did not care what the public thought because Harold was damn good at his job and a damn good friend, Harold would not allow the information to reach public ears. He had many "friends" and was happy enough with his life that he did not need to shout it out over the rooftops. "Believe me Arciana, I would have to worry more about Harold making advances on me then you would. Would you like Harold to come back in now, or would you prefer I call for a female servant?"

"No, no, that's alright. Harold's fine. And I'd like to apologize to him," Arciana replied. Perhaps Harold had some information on the mystery behind Brady Black... Brady nodded, opening the door to leave.

"Alright then, I'll call for him to come back in. Is it alright if I stop by later, after your bath? I'd like to discuss some things with you. That is, unless you're too tired."

"Depends. What things do you want to talk about?" Arciana asked, half joking, half serious. Brady grinned deviously.

"You will just have to wait and see," Brady replied. "So, what is your answer, Mistress Arciana? Yay, or Nay?"

"Alright, I suppose you may," Arciana replied with a slight smile.

"Good." Brady said. "Have a nice bath, Mistress Arciana," Brady added with a grin before departing the room. He nodded at Harold, signifying everything was straightened out, before disappearing back into his own room. Harold cautiously approached Arciana's open door, standing in the doorway and knocking on the side of the doorframe.

"Knock knock," Harold called. "May I come in?"

"Yes Harold, you may," Arciana replied. Harold took a few steps into the room, careful not to get too close to her just yet. "Please forgive me for before. I didn't know you were only here to give me a bath."

"It's alright, Arciana. My mistake for not making that clear. I'm often a bit too blunt and to the point." Harold stated. Arciana smiled. "I also take it that he told you I was..."

"Yes, he told me. Now, I do not have to worry about you coming on to me," Arciana said, still smiling. Harold chuckled as he closed the door.

"Well now, I most certainly would be if I were your typical male. If I may say so, in all respect, you are very easy on the eyes," Harold stated. Knowing the statement was only friendly, Arciana just laughed.

"Why thank you Harold. Might I add that you aren't too shabby yourself," Arciana stated. "Alright... may we get started now? I don't wish to keep you too long, and I am dying to get out of this horrid get up!"

"I should imagine so. Come this way," Harold instructed, leading her into the bathroom. The elegant tub was huge, steam from the hot water Harold and some servants had filled it with rising to meet the cool air of the room, creating a misty, muggy, yet relaxing feel. "It might not be quite as hot as it would have been now. The servants are on their way with more water. Are you allergic to anything? Because I put some wonderful minerals into the water. They do marvelous work to condition ones skin and calm ones nerves." Harold stated, closing the bathroom door. Arciana smiled brightly; this bath would do her wonders!

"No, no allergies. Thank you for being so thoughtful," Arciana said honestly.

"My pleasure, my dear. Here, let me help you with this," Harold offered, gesturing for her to turn around so he could get to the tricky clasp of her top. She did so, moving her long hair aside so he could get to the clasp. "My, you have such beautiful hair!" Harold said as he undid the clasp, slipping the scarce garment off her shoulders.

"Even more so when it's clean," Arciana replied.

"Oh my..." Harold gasped as he saw the deep scar which ran horizontally across her entire upper back, from shoulder to shoulder. It had been just barely hidden by her top. "What happened to you, you poor thing? That looks dreadful!"

"I'm afraid it's not the only one..." Arciana murmured, wriggling out of the tight-fitting bottoms of her outfit. Sure enough, she had more, smaller scars, on her thighs, lower back, and the back of her legs. Upon turning to face him, Harold also discovered the large scar that ran right down the middle of her chest, between her ample breasts. "My former owner... he had a passion for knives and foreplay. He tended to combine the two, more often then I care to remember." Despite that she was standing before him completely nude now, she felt no discomfort. After her initial shock, Arciana was left able to see what kind of man Harold really was. A kind and dear man who had respect for everyone, even those he did not know. She felt at ease with Harold, somehow knowing that he would be the type of person she would be glad to consider a friend.

"You're a slave?" Harold asked, astonished. Arciana nodded, stepping up on the tub's platform so she could get in. Harold moved forward, helping her ease into the soothing warm water.

"Since I was 8. My owner was a very evil man," Arciana replied, leaning back against the tub and letting the waters calm her. She breathed in the soothing fragrances of lavender and chamomile, feeling instantly at ease.

"I am so sorry my dear. Both King Brady and I detest slavery, but it's necessary here. A main reason Brady wants this war to end, so he can put an end to slavery without fear of losing the funds needed to keep up the army. One of the many sacrifices Brady has had to make in his short years," Harold said, reaching for the soap and wash cloth. "Here, set up on the platform to the side. I'll wash your back so you can wash off other areas. Then I'll wash your hair." Arciana nodded her thanks, pulling herself up onto the platform within the huge tub. Down on the bottom, the water had reached to her neck. On the platform, only her bottom half was covered, leaving her back exposed to be washed. Harold lathered up the wash cloth before he began to scrub her upper back. It pained him to see the scars that no doubt held even more painful memories, but he supposed many slaves weren't so lucky to escape with only a few minor scars, let alone escape into the luxury of a lavish palace. "So, will you be staying with us long? We don't get many visitors here that aren't stuffy uptight Royals," Harold stated.

"No, I'll be leaving in the morning," Arciana answered. Harold was glad her back was to him, least she see his disappointment. Anyone who wasn't blind could see the attraction between her and Brady. And, seeing the late Isabella's precious glass butterfly in Arciana's hands had confirmed Brady's attraction to her; Brady never let anyone near that thing after his sister's death. If this girl was leaving come morning, it would shatter Brady's tormented heart. All those close to Brady knew one more blow could very well kill their heartbroken king, inside and out.

"King Brady will be very disappointed to see you go. He has so few people he can depend on in his life, now that young Princess Isabella is gone. Such a beautiful spirit, that girl. Some say she was the reincarnated soul of Brady's mother- a theory which began to prove why she was named after her. Too pure and good to be true," Harold said fondly. He always liked young Isabella, one of the few women who never did anything to get on his nerves. Arciana sighed sadly, feeling so guilty that her father was responsible for Isabella's premature death. How could she be here, allowing these people to be so kind to her, when her father was a despicable murder who had so wronged all the people of Nero in but a moment? "Brady misses his beloved sister very much." At this point, Arciana turned to face him, grasping his wrist to halt his scrubbing.

"Tell me about him," Arciana pleaded, her eyes showing Harold intense interest, almost as if she needed to learn more.

"You want to know more about King Brady?" Harold asked hopefully, setting the soap and wash cloth down on the side of the tub.

"Yes, I do. Please, tell me everything." Arciana inwardly chided herself for caring. Even if she did grow close to him, they could never be together. He would hate her once he found out she was not only Mucchean, but the rightful Queen of Mucche.

"Why the interest in Brady Black?" Harold asked curiously.

"I... I honestly don't know. If you want the truth, I've never been able to trust any man after what my owner did to me. Not even his son, who protected me from his father for years. I don't understand why I feel so drawn to Brady, why I feel I can trust him, after knowing him only a few short hours," Arciana replied.

"Brady is very easy to trust," Harold stated. "Not many know the real Brady Black. He's kept himself locked away so long, I fear he will begin to forget himself completely. If you know anything at all about the real Brady Black, you are very fortunate."

"Why is he so untrusting?" Arciana asked, slightly unnerved. It seemed to her that she was not the only one who felt all insecurities melt away when they were together.

"Brady has suffered a lot of unbearable pain in his few short years. He once told me he felt cursed, doomed to lose everyone he ever allows himself to love. First the mother he never knew to poison meant for John. Then his step-mother to a fire started by Mucchean solders. Then his father fell in battle with Victor Kiriakis. And finally his beloved, innocent baby sister at Victor's own hand. Even the strongest man, can only bare so much before he breaks down, and gives up. Each death caused Brady to loose a piece of his soul, changing him from caring, generous, brave, and loving, to bitter and lonely. One more blow, and I fear Brady will lose the last piece of himself," Harold said, hoping to get through to Arciana. But she just turned her back to him, unable to let him see her torture at his words.

"I feel terrible for him. No one should have to go through so much," Arciana said. Harold shook his head, realizing he would have to be completely blunt with her.

"You can stop it," Harold said.

"What?" Arciana breathed, turning to face him again, astonishment in her gaze.

"You can put an end to Brady's pain. A blind man can see the connection between you two. Brady had so many dreams, all long since shattered. But you could renew those dreams, if you wanted to. He just needs someone to love him who won't turn their back on him. But, I'm warning you, Arciana. If you can't, or won't, be that for him, then stay as far away from him as possible. Brady could not take the pain of opening himself up to someone, only to have them willingly reject his love. If you have any doubt you can give as much of yourself to him as he is giving you, then leave Nero now, before you destroy what's left of the real Brady Black," Harold said firmly. No more words could be exchanged on the matter as the door was opened by 4 servant girls, bringing more hot water for Arciana's bath. Arciana silently lowered herself back down into the tub, taking the wash cloth to clean herself before Harold washed her hair. All the while, she replayed his warning over and over again in her head, until she reached her final decision. She would not allow Brady to open up to her anymore. Nor would she to him. The way, her departure would not hurt him any more then he'd already been hurt. She felt the need to protect Brady's fragile heart, but Arciana also couldn't stand to risk her own...

"Go away, Jan. I'm not in the mood for this," Philip stated, pushing his self-proclaimed mistress away in disgust before standing from his bed. He'd retired to his chambers early. But Jan, as she often did, had other things in mind that had nothing to do with sleep.

"Philip Kiriakis not in the mood? What a shock! Come on, Phil, you never want to do anything anymore," Jan whined.

"Don't call me that! I am the King, Jan, and you will address me with the respect I deserve!" Philip boomed. "Perhaps I've tired of all your limited tricks. You might wish to consider trying something new."

"So, you want to get rid of me?" Jan pouted, setting up on one elbow.

"I'm sick of your games, Jan. You'll pull just about anything to get me to marry you and declare you Queen. God knows you may be a passable mistress, but you'd make a horrible queen." Jan flushed with anger, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

"Ha, you should talk! At least I'd try earning my title. The only reason you're King is because your brothers and father got the axe, your sister was lost years ago, and your crazy mother is too old and senile to rule anymore, although I'm starting to wonder if maybe the kingdom would be better off with her still in the throne," Jan huffed. Philip turned his back to her, the mention of his depleting family wounding him.

Philip was far more immature then his ancestors had been at his age. Though he could fight well enough, killing man, woman, and child without any guilt, he was a terrible military leader. His commanding officer, Michael Horton, was the brains of every battle. He had married Austin's wife, Lady Carrie, after Austin's death, so that they could both remain in high status in Mucche. Philip took his advice in all affairs of war, then took credit for a victory, pushing all blame on Michael for a lose. Michael didn't care, as long as he remained in control of the vast Mucchean army. Perhaps the only thing Philip was capable of was the simple task of handling slave trade and stamping the royal seal on documents prepared by his council. Philip's mother, before she got too old to know what was going on around her, blamed the premature lose of his twin sister Chloe at an early age for his immaturity. Perhaps it was true. Philip believed the theory. After that lose, and growing up with the knowledge he had almost suffered the same fate as his dear twin sister, Philip remained that scared little 8-year old boy who needed his sister to get him out of trouble. Physically, he grew up a strong leader, but that mental immaturity kept him from putting his life-time of extensive training to good use. He cared nothing for the lose of his brothers. Truth was, he didn't really care about Victor's death either. Though he had respected and loved his father as any son should, praising him for his excellent military leadership, Victor's death had not held the meaning that it likely should have. He told himself that he still grieved to work up the anger he needed to go head to head with the strong King Brady. But his real hatred for Brady came from the sin's of his father. Chloe's honor would only be restored when Philip triumphantly displayed Brady's head on a pole throughout the roads of Mucche. Philip's thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on the door.

"Your Majesty, a message from Eric just arrived," Michael called from behind the door. Eric and his twin sister Sami, as well as their father Roman and a man related by marriage to the DiMera family, Abe Carver, were all spies for the Mucchean army. They, along with a few others, "vacationed" in Nero from "the distant lands" so they could keep an eye out on the events in Nero to report back to King Philip. The spies were Kate's last sane idea before old age rendered her incapable of rule as Queen. If Brady was ever out of Nero, a few spies usually trailed him while the rest stayed to watch over activity within the castle. Philip hurried to the door, ushering Michael in before closing the door again. He completely forgot to send Jan, who was always looking for info to use to her advantage, out.

"What news does he have for us?" Philip asked. Mike looked very displeased.

"See for yourself. This could cause us some terrible damage," Mike replied, handing Philip the scroll in his hand. Philip took it, unrolling it to read Eric's bold handwriting.

"Brady snuck out of the castle as a commoner again," Philip mumbled as he read. "What's with that guy anyway? Hrm... so Shawn's back in Nero?" If Mike wasn't so use to Philip talking to himself, he would swear the man was completely out of his mind. Then again, he still did believe that from time to time. "Holy... Rubino and Supervisore are uniting with Nero against us?" Philip demanded. Mike nodded grimly.

"Yes. We have reason to believe Arcadia will also unite with them. King David is in close relations with King Jason through his daughter Miriam Lockhart," Mike replied. Arcadia was a more recent addition to Salem. Unlike the other 4 countries, Arcadia was a mere century old. But their army was as sufficient as that of either Rubino's or Supervisore's.

"Damn. I was afraid this could happen. I thought Isabella's death was enough to keep King Shawn from Nero forever, but it looks as if I was wrong. Supervisore must know of our plans to go after them as a chip against Nero once Rubino is under my control. Are they meeting anywhere?" Philip asked.

"Keep reading," Mike prompted. Philip nodded, picking up where he left off reading. "A slave girl? Brady doesn't own slaves, what would he want with one now, especially a mere woman?"

"We are unsure. Eric says she looked familiar. She may be of some importance to the union. Brady paid far too much for her to be a common slave."

"So I see..." Philip murmured, catching the part about paying 500 gold pieces; even the most valuable of slaves never sold for over 300, and those were generally male slaves. He skimmed through the part about the dispute between Brady and the girl, apparently named Arciana. Strangely, talk of the slave beauty interested him, but he didn't think her important to the union. Finally, he came to the last part. "So, King Brady is leaving tomorrow with King Shawn to meet King Jason and King David in Arcadia to discuss the union," Philip stated, rolling up the scroll and handing it back to Mike. "Send order for Eric and Sami to take the rest of the spies to Arcadia. I want to know everything about that meeting. But, send word for Roman and Abe to stay in Nero. If this slave girl could be a threat, or could in any way be used against Brady, I want to know about it. I get a strange feeling she is of significance. There may be something else lurking in the shadows. I don't want to take chances. If Rubino, Supervisore, and Arcadia do unite with Nero, we can't afford to make any mistakes. We need every advantage we can get. Send out the order, and tell them to report back to me as soon as they learn anything new," Philip commanded. Mike nodded, bowing his head in respect before exiting to carry out his orders. Philip moved to the pitcher of ale on the bedside table, while Jan moved forward, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

"Hmmm... you actually know what you're talking about this time. You almost pass for a real King. I didn't think you were capable of doing your own thinking. I like the change," Jan cooed. Philip rolled his eyes, ignoring Jan's seduction and pouring himself a drink of ale.

"This girl, Arciana, may bring us more trouble then the union. I have a bad feeling about her, like things will end in tragedy," Philip stated worriedly. Why this stranger troubled him more then the impending union he did not know.

"You never get gut instincts about battle tactics. I would normally say you're out of your mind to worry so much about a slave girl, but it sounds to me like she is very important. No body shells out 500 gold pieces for a common slave," Jan stated worriedly. True, she had a tendency to merely sleep her way to the top, but Jan was intelligent enough. Not Queen material, no. But her opinions usually should be taken into consideration. Philip closed his eyes in deep thought. God how he hated slavery. To think this age old war began because of it both astounded and disgusted him. It was more then that now of course; this war was about vengeance and honor now. The only reason Philip didn't end slavery was to uphold the honor of his father's memory. Unlike his father, Philip could not approve of and support the sale of other human life, no matter who they were, or where they were from. He'd come far too close for comfort to being sold into it himself.

"I have a feeling my past is going to bite back because of this. I need to put a stop to this union and figure out who this girl is. Perhaps I should consult Mother. She still knows what's going on somewhat, she's just harder to understand now."

"Hmmm... you know what I think? I think, you shouldn't ruin this intelligent streak with too much thinking. You know what they say; all work and no play..." Jan cooed seductively, planting a light kiss on Philip's neck. The action was too sweet and gentle for her tastes, but she knew the sensation drove Philip wild. And, it always worked to get his attention.

"They do say that, don't they?" Philip smirked, setting down his ale mug. "So, Mistress, what perchance did you have in mind?" Philip asked, an evil, suggestive and sickeningly dimpled grin on his face. Jan smirked, her hot breathe raising the hairs on the back of his neck, as well as beginning to cause a far more significant rise. Men. So easy to manipulate.

"I think you know what's on my mind," Jan breathed.

"Indeed I do," Philip stated. With all thought of the slave girl and impending union between Nero, Rubino, Arcadia, and Supervisore gone, Philip quickly spun around in her arms to face her, pressing his lips hungrily to her and pushing her roughly back onto the bed, he on top. His mind was on a far more different union. "Let's play..."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Arciana slipped the elegant deep purple nightgown over her head, allowing it to slip over her form before adjusting the straps on her shoulders. It was a little tight, but not uncomfortably so. Arciana's only complaint would have been the amount of cleavage it exposed, but at least it wouldn't show her matching purple undergarments. Harold had left moments before without another word. She herself did not know what she could possibly say to him. So after she was dry she just allowed him to leave so she could have time to think. Arciana picked up the hair brush on her vanity, sitting down to face the mirror as she began to pull the brush through her freshly washed raven hair. Unlike most slaves, former or otherwise, Arciana was accustomed to counting strokes while brushing her hair. Probably because her eight years with her birth family had drilled a few small things into her head; Queen Katherine had been very strict when it came to beauty. She was already on her 769th stroke when there came a knock at her door.

"Come in," Arciana called, never looking away from the mirror. She could see the door opening in the mirror's reflection. Cautiously, Brady entered the room, closing the door behind him. "I was wondering when you'd come," Arciana said, finishing her 800th stroke. She put the brush down, promising herself to do 1200 strokes tomorrow to make up for it, although while with Lord Paul, she'd rarely had the time to even make it to 100 before someone called for her. Then again, she was usually lucky to be allowed something so simple as a hairbrush to begin with while under that horrid man's control.

"I wanted to give you plenty of time to finish your bath," Brady stated. "Mind if I have a seat?"

"Go for it. You're the King after all," Arciana replied with a slight smile, now sitting sideways in her chair so she could watch him. Brady smiled as well, taking the desk chair and turning it to face her before sitting down. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"You," Brady answered bluntly. Arciana frowned, nervously turning back to her mirror. Perhaps she would finish those last 200 strokes after all...

"Me? What's there to know about me? I'm just a slave girl," Arciana stated, picking up her brush and resuming her counting. Brady sighed, fearing she was pulling further away. He noted her continuous brushing, remembering how Isabella had always been so careful to count out at least 1000 strokes even when she was little. Arciana did not present herself like a normal slave, but he could not press his luck.

"Well, I've told you much about me and my past. I just thought it would be nice for you to return the favor and tell me a bit about the person who knows more about me then some who've known me my whole life. But if you're not comfortable with that..."

"No, I'm not," Arciana said more sharply then intended. She had to stick to the plan. She couldn't grow any closer to Brady, least she shatter what was left of his soul. "Look, I really don't want to talk about me, or hear any more about you and your past, so..." Arciana paused when she saw his reflection in the mirror as he stood, a dark, deeply hurt and disappointed expression on his handsome face.

"You needn't say any more, I get the idea. I will leave you in peace now. You can have Harold arrange for your departure in the morning," Brady said coldly, trying so hard to conceal the pain he was feeling. What a fool he was to think this girl, a mere stranger whom he'd just met, would be his savior from his torturous life of solitude. She was no different then all the others, only she rejected willingly. As Brady moved swiftly to the door, Arciana panicked. She couldn't let him leave like that! Not when he looked so devastated; the point of her statement was to keep him from harm, not cause him harm.

"Brady wait!" Arciana called, turning to face the door before his hand reached the door knob. Brady turned to her, too disappointed and broken to feel any hope that maybe she did not mean what she spoke. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just... think it would be best if we not get to know one another so deeply. I'll be leaving in the morning, and I probably will never see you again." Arciana couldn't help but feel, and sound, disappointed that that was the way things had to be. Though she'd only known him a few short hours, she found herself desiring to never leave his side, to let him take away all the pain she felt inside. The emotion scared her, for she had grown wise enough to keep to herself and never trust in anyone. Yet this man, the son of the very man who was the cause for all her suffering, had within a few short hours somehow made her willing to throw all those beliefs and insecurities out the window.

"You don't have to leave in the morning you know," Brady stated slowly. Perhaps there was still hope. He'd known within an instant he wanted her. Not just her luscious body, but all of her, mind, body, heart, and soul. He had so many fears and doubts, but all of those melted away with the feeling of completion just being in her presence gave him.

"Yes, I do," Arciana said sadly. She had to, to protect both their hearts. This wasn't right. They couldn't be anything more then acquaintances. For starters, they had just met, and were total strangers to one another. But worst of all, she was the daughter of his greatest enemy. She couldn't be feeling such things about a man she could never be with; Brady's heart couldn't take one more blow, and neither could hers. She would rather feel like an empty, emotionless void then open herself up to more torment.

"Why? Am I honestly to think you really have anywhere to go?" Brady asked. Arciana paused. Where could she go? Not Rubino for sure, and most certainly not Mucche. Where did she have left to go? "Well, do you?"

"No, I don't have anywhere to go," Arciana replied, lowering her head.

"So why can't you stay here, with me?" Brady asked.

"Because... because I'm afraid," Arciana whispered. Brady stepped forward, crouching down on one knee in front of her, his hand unintentionally on her bare knee. With his right hand, Brady reached up, gently tipping her chin up to meet him at eye level.

"Afraid of me?" Brady asked softly.

"Afraid of getting hurt," Arciana replied.

"You've been hurt a lot, haven't you?" Arciana nodded sadly, a tear sliding down her cheek. Brady wiped it away gently with his thumb, giving her a reassuring smile. "Arciana, I am not like those who have hurt you in the past. I know first hand what it feels like to be betrayed. Some people who've gone through things like you and I have feel they have to take out their pain on others, make them feel as they do so they can feel better about themselves. I'm not like that Arciana. I could never willing hurt another as I've been hurt," Brady said honestly. "I would like for us to be friends, Arciana. Stay or leave, I would like you to keep in touch. A King doesn't often find a true friend who isn't obligated to be so," Brady stated with a sly grin. Arciana smiled as well, all anxiety gone at his gentle touch. "Come, let's sit on the couch. Much more relaxed and comfortable then these wooden chairs." Brady took her hand in his, leading her over to the small couch, made to seat 2 people. Brady situated himself on the right side of the comfortable black couch, next to the wall, while Arciana sat on the left side, closest to the bed, curling her legs underneath her while keeping the hem of her nightgown from riding up too far up her thighs.

"This couch really is so comfortable. The couches in Lo... in my master's house were all fairly hard, or were the kind you would completely sink into and be unable to get out," Arciana said. Brady decided not to press the near slip, though he couldn't help but wonder why she would not speak her former master's name.

"Well, they're coming out with some fabulous new inventions these days. And of course, only the best for the palace. You may have noticed that your bathroom has a lavatory, like in the public baths. Only now, the powers that be have come up with a plumbing system to take away waste and bring in water from any part of a building. We just have no fast way to bring in hot water since there are no hot springs near by. Hopefully, we'll be able to improve the plumbing system and introduce it into the entire city. My inventors are now talking of a way of lighting entire buildings without using candles or torches. I personally favor the new types of furniture they've come up with. One can't think up ideas such as plumbing if you're not comfortable," Brady said with a slight smile, running his hand over the arm of the sofa. "Harold calls these couches 'love seats'."

"Why?"

"I suppose because it seats two people. I don't know. I tend not to try to question Harold's way of thinking. Gets too confusing," Brady joked, getting comfortable in the 'love seat.' The bottom of Arciana's feet were against his legs, and try as he might he could not help but notice how breath-taking she was, or the way the hem of her nightgown occasionally crept higher up on her thighs. The night gown left just enough to the imagination to keep one forever intrigued. "So, are you alright with the idea of being my friend. I must warn you, my corny jokes do get quite annoying, not to mention I do have an entire country to run. I'd like to find someone with the patience to put up with me," Brady said with a grin. Arciana smiled too, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I think I can handle that. I'd like that very much," Arciana replied honestly. Brady's grinned broadened, obviously pleased.

"Good. So then... might I ask questions about you, or would you prefer to hear more of my boring life story?" Brady asked.

"You are anything but boring, Brady Black," Arciana stated.

"Yes... well... um... that doesn't answer my question," Brady stammered.

"Ok then, ask away," Arciana replied, though she chided herself for it. She knew she'd have to lie on most parts, or he'd hate her. She really wanted his friendship; she couldn't stand the thought of not having it, simply because she was Victor and Kate Kiriakis' daughter.

"Alright... let's start with... where are you from?" Brady asked. Arciana bit her bottom lip nervously, stalling for time. Technically, she was from Mucche, but she lived in Nero and Rubino most of her life. "I'm sorry, is that question off limits?"

"No... it's just... well, I don't remember much from the slave auction today. I was pretty out of it from shock, but I do remember the auctioneer claiming I was from the distant lands."

"You mean you're not?" Brady asked, concerned. Shawn had mentioned commoners being taken from Rubino to be sold as slaves. Could the DiMera's or their allies be selling Rubinoean's to Nero, claiming them to be imported from the distant lands?

"No, I'm not," Arciana replied.

"Then where are you from? If I may ask." Arciana silently decided to skip the part about growing up in the Kiriakis palace.

"Well, I spent most of my life in slavery here in Nero. A few years back, my master was killed in battle, so his wife and only son set me and the 2 male slaves free. I fled to the safety of Rubino, but obviously I was mistaken on the safety part," Arciana answered. Well, that did, in a way, help explain why she would not mention her master's name; he'd been Neroean, which meant more then likely Brady knew him or at least had heard of him.

"Rubino. Of course, I should have known," Brady cursed. "Damn those DiMera's. They are the ones that captured you, correct?"

"Yes, I believe so, and a small band of their allies. You knew about this?" Arciana asked, momentarily horrified at the thought of Brady knowing about the slave trade and doing nothing about it. Brady, understanding her fears, shook his head.

"No. At least, not until this afternoon. King Shawn of Rubino came to seek my help. He's been absent in his grief, but he wishes to do something to fix the problems his kingdom is facing. He informed me of the recent raids, and of an impending union which would take place to unite my kingdom with our 3 peaceful neighbors against Mucche. I will be accompanying Shawn to a meeting in Arcadia between the kings of Nero, Rubino, Arcadia and Supervisore. Tell me everything about what happened," Brady asked. Arciana looked troubled by the memories, so Brady reached for her hand, taking it gently in his. "Please Arciana? It may help to prevent others from going through what you did. I have made a promise to put a stop to this madness, but I will need help doing so." Arciana nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves before she began the tale, starting with the market place and ending with the slave auction.

"Then of course you came along and bought me," Arciana finished. Brady nodded, absorbing the information.

"So, I am led to assume the DiMera's sold you and the others to us under the impression you all were either Mucchean captures or natives from the distant lands?" Brady asked. Arciana shook her head sadly.

"No, Brady, they knew. They knew where we were from, they just didn't care."

"What! Why, this is an outrage!" Brady burst, bolting up from the couch. Arciana watched nervously as Brady feverently began to pace in front of her. "I can't believe this! Everyone in Nero knows how close the Black family has always been to the Brady family, since the very beginning, not to mention that Shawn has been one of my best, dearest friends since before I could crawl! Isabella despised slavery. I can't even imagine what she would say about her own people kidnapping innocents from a neutral country just to make money!"

"Brady, please sit and calm down. You're making me nervous with that pacing," Arciana pleaded. Brady stopped in his tracks, turning his gaze upon her. His nerves were almost instantly soothed just seeing her face, but he was still outraged.

"I'm sorry. Calm down, I will do. But sitting? No. I've done that far too long. Excuse me for a moment. Please, stay right there," Brady instructed. Arciana nodded, watching Brady go out her door, leaving it open. Brady stepped up to the door across the hallway, which led to Harold's room. Unlike the council members who only roomed in the palace only from time to time, Harold lived permanently in the palace, and next to the king's quarters. Harold's mother and father had disowned him when they found out about his alternative lifestyle, but they had unfortunately died in an accident while traveling by way of the river to the distant lands. The house was willed to charity, as was the family fortune. With nowhere else to go, Harold took Brady up on his kind offer to allow him to stay full time in the palace quarters, away from the hallway which all of the council bedrooms were located. Harold had no high social status by birth, which caused quite an uproar when the extremely important position of Royal Advisor was given to Harold, as that meant Harold would be in complete charge of the kingdom in Brady's absences. But Harold had proved his worth, skillfully helping Nero out of many crisis'. "Harold. Are you in there?" Brady called, knocking on the door. After a loud thud, which sounded like someone falling and hitting the floor, and a lot of rustling and commotion, Harold opened the door, looking disheveled and wearing only his leather pants, which Brady could have sworn must have been put on backwards in Harold's hast to get dressed. "Catch you at a bad time?" Brady asked knowingly. He was, however, too angry to be amused by the situation.

"No no, always have time for my favorite king. So, what is it that you need?" Harold asked, trying to act casual.

"Has King Shawn arrived? I told Hawk to invite him to stay, is he here?" Brady asked. Harold ran a hand through his hair, nervously throwing a half glance over his shoulder before facing Brady again.

"Ummmm... oh yes, he did arrive, shortly after you and Arciana got here. I told him he could stay in the room next to mine, but I don't think he's there yet. He wanted to get some fresh air and a bite to eat. Would you like me to look for him and tell him you wish to meet with him?" Harold asked.

"Would you please? I have something very urgent to discuss with him. Tell him to come meet me in Arciana's room as soon as you find him," Brady instructed.

"Will do. Just let me get dressed first, and I'll go find him," Harold said, too distracted to ask what the urgent matters were.

"Harold, you sure are extremely distracted. Who do you have hiding under the bed this time?" Brady asked curiously, pretending to try to push past Harold into the room. Harold quickly stopped him, unintentionally pushing him back a little.

"No one, honest. Go, I'll get King Shawn to you as soon as possible," Harold stated. Brady eyed him curiously, but he had far too many more important issues at hand to press the matter.

"Alright then, please hurry and get dressed. Send Shawn to the room across the hall when you find him," Brady said before turning back to Arciana's room. That man was a puzzle box, always ready and waiting to surprise you...

Arciana continued to watch Brady pace in front of her, having given up trying to get him to sit still.

"What's taking him so long?" Brady demanded.

"Brady, it's only been all of 90 seconds. Harold probably just now got dressed and out the door to look for King Shawn," Arciana reassured. Brady sighed, ceasing his feverish pacing and flopping down on the couch beside her.

"I suppose you're right. I'm sorry, I'm just so... frustrated. To think, my own people, selling the innocents of a neutral country, knowing how our honored Isabella felt, not only about slavery but the people of Rubino, just to make money! And right under my nose!" Brady boomed. Arciana reached out, laying a comforting hand on his upper arm.

"I'm so sorry Brady. I know this must be hard, especially because of your sister."

"Yeah... it is. If I only had her here..." Brady sighed, shaking his head. "I wish you could have met her. She would have liked you."

"I doubt that. You barely know me, Brady." Arciana reminded, removing her hand from his arm.

"That may be true, but Isabella had a way of reading people. She loved everyone she came across, but there were a lucky few who were held in her highest regard. You would have been one of them," Brady stated. Just then, a knock at the door alerted Shawn's presence. Brady stood, pulling open the door and practically dragging Shawn inside, shutting the door again. "Where were you?"

"I'm sorry Brady. I was just on my way back from taking a walk around the courtyard and the gardens when I ran into Harold. What is it, what's the urgent news?" Shawn asked.

"Have a seat," Brady instructed, nodding towards one of the desk chairs before he reclaimed his former place next to Arciana. Shawn complied, turning the chair to face Brady, and the woman he recognized from the slave auction. "This is Arciana."

"Yes, the woman from this afternoon. Pleased to meet you, Arciana," Shawn greeted, reaching out to grasp her hand.

"It's an honor, Your Highness," Arciana returned politely. So much so, she failed to remember her scant garments in the presence of two strangers who happened to be Kings. Shawn laughed at the title.

"Please, call me Shawn. I hate titles as much as Brady does, if not more so," Shawn said.

"Alright, greetings out of the way..." Brady interrupted. "Shawn, as you know Arciana is a slave. Or was, anyway. But, as it turns out, she was not imported from the distant lands as the auctioneer told us."

"Then where from?" Shawn asked.

"Rubino," Arciana answered. "I'd been living there for a few years when the raiders attacked the marketplace this morning, where I unfortunately was shopping." Shawn frowned, obviously distraught.

"I did not know the marketplace was hit. I've been here all day, and before that, I had to meet with Jason and Miriam in Supervisore," Shawn explained. Miriam, David's only daughter, had been there as a representative since her only brother, Connor Lockhart, was yet still too young for such matters though he would be the heir to his father's throne.

"But you knew people were being abducted?" Arciana asked. Shawn nodded sadly.

"Unfortunately, yes, I knew. That's why I finally sought out first Jason, then Brady, for help. I know it's been long over due, but my people need me, and I intend to come through for them no matter the consequences. Arciana, can you tell me who's behind the abductions? I have some ideas, but I have no proof of who's truly behind it." Shawn said.

"It was the DiMera's, Shawn," Brady answered. Shawn nodded, taking in the information.

"I was afraid so. Only one, maybe two other groups are large enough and powerful enough to pull something like this off," Shawn stated. "They'll be the hardest to take down, I'm afraid. They declare no loyalty to either country, but they live within the boundaries of Mucche, so I'm sure they can take refugee with them if need be."

"Damn dirty Muccheans. They're basically all a bunch of blood thirsty scoundrels. I bet even the poorest commoner would stand up and fight for the DiMera's just to spite us and keep us from having any peace," Brady cursed. Arciana flinched to hear him talk that way, without knowing he really didn't mean it. Would he think that way of her if he knew? The true answer was, of course, no, Brady had no hatred for the Mucchean population in general. Truth was, all his passion for anything--revenge, family, old dreams-- had all died with Belle as she took her last labored breath in his arms, giving him a faint smile before she too abandoned him for a greater existence. All he longed for now was peace. "The DiMera's aren't the worst part, I'm afraid, Shawn."

"What could be worse?"

"The slave traders that bought us... they knew we weren't imported from the distant lands, Shawn. They knew where we'd really been taken from," Arciana answered quietly.

"You mean..."

"Yes. My own people have become as money hungry as we've all accused the Muccheans for centuries. The traders, a larger branch of the Mendez family, didn't care where those people came from as long as they could make more money off their sale," Brady spat. Unnoticed to either Shawn or Brady, Arciana shuddered at the mention of the Mendez family. She had not realized... the two branches of the Mendez family were never really close. Most forgot all about Lord Paul's existence, even before his death during battle. Arciana had forgotten Paul's father ran the trade in Nero at the time she was sold. Paul and his father had never been close; she had been "a gift of peace." Paul's father had made sure no one else would bid on her so she would go to Paul, then he conveniently forgot to collect the money from her sale as Paul carted her off to her life of torturous hell. From then on, father and son remained peaceful, but rarely spoke. So Arciana never saw him again. After Paul's father died, the rest of the family took over the slave trade, leaving the widowed Faye and her children out of it, as she wanted nothing to do with her husband's family. Arciana should have sensed the familiarity; the auctioneer's dirty hands had felt just like those of Paul's, now that she had the time to think back on it.

"My God... I never thought... the Neroeans so worship Isabella's memory. I thought they knew how strongly she disapproved. I thought they knew to keep the slave trade under control in her honor," Shawn murmured more to himself then to Brady.

"I know. So did I. I believe they still do know, but it appears they no longer care," Brady replied. His blood boiled with rage to think his sweet Isabella could be so easily forgotten by the people she cared so much about. The people she gave her life fighting for. Her memory could not go so tainted any longer. "I am sorry, Shawn. Your people are innocents and I fully take the blame for what has happened to them," Brady said. He then turned his head to Arciana, who sat curled up against the arm of the couch beside him, and reached for her hand, gently taking it into his much larger hands. "And I must apologize to you as well, Arciana. I am so sorry for what has happened to you," Brady said honestly. Sorry didn't even begin to describe how tortured he felt believing he was responsible for her capture. Such a beautiful, pure soul as she should never have to go through any of this life. And some how, he felt twice as much guilt for her capture as he did for all the other many people who'd been taken from Rubino, like he'd wronged her twice in the same way. Arciana smiled reassuringly at him, involuntarily rubbing her thumb repeatedly against the palm of his hand.

"It's not your fault. You didn't know," Arciana replied quietly. Mere hours ago, she would have laughed at the statement. Now she knew better. Brady was not his father. To know John had raised such an amazing, caring son and daughter made her begin to believe John had once been as good a man as Brady was now. Perhaps he was just hurting too much, been put through too much to believe in the goodness of people any longer-- something all who knew him feared would happen to Brady should one more heartbreak cross his path.

"I should have," Brady replied quietly, more to himself. Shawn watched silently as Brady held Arciana's hand in his, seemingly pleading forgiveness with his eyes. Shawn had not noticed the spark between his friend and the young former slave, until now. Perhaps there was still hope for all Brady's hopes and dreams... "This ends now," Brady stated suddenly, finally breaking the intense hold Arciana's enchanting eyes held on him and standing from the couch, opening the door. "Harold?"

"Yes Your Majesty?" Harold called from his open doorway, still buttoning his shirt. Another reason why Harold roomed in these quarters, it was much easier for Brady to call to him when he needed him.

"I need you to write up a decree, forbidding any and all slavery within the borders of Nero. All currently owned slaves are to be freed immediately. Anyone caught either owning or selling slaves in any shape, way, or form, will be subject to life imprisonment or banishment. I need you to get all the councilmen's signatures on the decree. But, if any or all refuse to sign, then I will pass the law without their support. Bring the scroll to me for signing as soon as you alert the council. I will want to make a public announcement before I leave tomorrow morning for Arcadia," Brady instructed. Normally, Brady himself wrote out any decrees, then petitioned them to the council. By unwritten law, the council was to approve all laws by vote, but really the King had sole power to approve or deny laws. Generally, Brady would not pass a law if his self-appointed council did not approve. But in this case, Brady couldn't care less if they all approved or not. Harold nodded, grabbing a quill and ink well off the small stand beside his door.

"I'll grab an empty scroll from your chambers and write it in there. My desk... is kinda cluttered. Plus, I want to go ahead and add the royal seal for you. Will I need to bring it to Arciana's room when I've asked the council?" Harold asked. Brady nodded.

"Most likely. If not, I will be in the Great Hall. I'd like to talk more with her, but she may wish to get some sleep," Brady replied. Harold again nodded, shutting his door, more in the hopes of Brady not noticing that his writing desk was not just cluttered, but in at least 5 pieces, and moving out into the hallway. "Thank you, Harold."

"No, thank you," Harold replied, disappearing into Brady's room. Brady shook his head, smilingly slightly despite himself at Harold implied "about damn time" meaning. Brady walked back into Arciana's room, again shutting the door.

"Harold will be writing up a decree for me. Shawn, I'll be making a public announcement about the abolishing of slavery as well as the impending union in the morning. Will you speak as well, on both accounts?" Brady asked.

"Of course," Shawn answered, standing from his chair and replacing it back in it's place in front of the desk. "I believe I will retire to my room now. I have some papers and documents I need to go over in preparation for the meeting tomorrow. Please inform me should anything new arise," Shawn said. Brady nodded, moving aside to let Shawn exit the room. After Shawn left, Brady approached Arciana, still seated on the couch.

"Might I stay awhile, or would you like me to leave so you can get some sleep?" Brady asked.

"You can stay if you wish. I'm not really that tired," Arciana lied. Really, she was exhausted. But she just felt she didn't want him to leave quite yet. As if to prove her lie, she yawned. Brady smiled slightly, reclaiming his seat beside her.

"Oh really? If I didn't know better, Mistress Arciana, I'd say you just can't bare to part with me," Brady teased. Arciana returned his smile, shaking her head.

"Now why on earth would I want to keep an amazingly rich, handsome, powerful King around?" Arciana countered. Brady grinned deviously, eyebrows arched.

"Amazingly handsome, huh?" Brady asked, causing Arciana to blush slightly. Amazing how someone he'd known only a few hours could take away all his rage and frustration, merely by smiling. He felt completely at ease, almost at peace just to be near her. Almost. Brady's smile faded slightly as he leaned back, sighing heavily. "God, what a day."

"Tell me about it," Arciana murmured. Brady sat up straight, again taking her hands into his.

"I want to thank you," Brady said.

"What for?"

"For giving me the motivation I needed to finally put an end to slavery," Brady replied.

"Please, don't thank me. I didn't do anything, except get myself captured," Arciana stated. Again. Brady shook his head, releasing one of her hands to bring his hand up to her cheek.

"You'd be surprised... you'll never know just how much you've done already, in merely a few hours," Brady said in near whisper, his eyes trained on her luscious red lips. The sound of his soft voice and the look in his eyes sent a tingly bolt of electricity down her spine. If only... Brady sighed, standing up and moving over to the window. This corridor was on the outer wall because of the royal chambers; Brady had a large balcony which over looked the huge town square from which he could make public announcements to larger groups of people. A cool breeze ruffled the curtain as Brady looked out at the crystal clear night sky; not a single cloud tainted the amazing deep pool of black with it's bright twinkly lights and large silvery full moon. "Do you know who you remind me of?" Brady asked.

"Your sister?" Arciana guessed. She highly doubted it. Isabella was selfless, pure hearted, and loving, while she was dirty, tainted, and untrusting, not to mention Mucchean. But it was the only reason she had to explain Brady's kindness to her. Brady smiled slightly, thinking of his precious baby sister.

"In some ways, yes. You are very much like my Isabella, although you are also two very different people." Brady replied. To him, Arciana had many of Isabella's greatest qualities. But they were all locked deep inside, buried beneath a lifetime of suffering, whereas Isabella had displayed exactly who she was in every action, large or small. "But I was thinking of someone else. A girl I crossed paths with once, a very long time ago. I never knew her. Not really at least. Only her name. She was sold into slavery as well. I was just a boy, just barely 11," Brady explained, closing his eyes. Mention of the Mendez family had brought up a very painful memory, one he had thought long since buried. Brady never forgave Paul Mendez Senior for with-holding information about _her_. Brady could not even speak her name to this day.

"I have not thought of it for a long time. I don't know what has made me remember it now. But for years, I searched for her, like I was drawn to her. I suppose, even as a young child, I never forgave myself for not saving her from slavery. I couldn't see at that time that she was the one I should have helped. I almost gave up, until finally, on his death bed, old man Mendez told me who she was sold to. But... it was too late. She was already gone, to only God knows where," Brady said sadly. He'd given up then, realizing he was never meant to find her no matter how he was pulled towards her; he could be noone's savior. That he had spent so long, over a decade actually, searching for one lost girl was astounding in itself. Perhaps he'd been a fool to care so much for someone he never really met. She had been a Mucchean after all, captured for reasons unknown to Brady. But, as he'd told Arciana, he'd been drawn to her ever since he saw her raven hair. And he also believed no child was born evil, only raised to be so. And that's what she had been, an innocent child. Her cries for help still tortured him to this day. Brady realized at that instant why he had felt so compelled to buy Arciana's freedom no matter the cost when so many others were there that shouldn't have been. Arciana's cries for help were the same as those of the little girl he spent years searching for. Only they were unspoken pleas of a tortured soul, uttered only to him. She was his chance at righting the wrong he'd made so many years ago, just by choosing the wrong child to save. Brady felt her gentle hand on his shoulder, but had been aware of her nearness long before the physical contact.

"I'm very sorry Brady. You must feel so guilty for that, but you shouldn't. At least you tried. Many never find anyone who would even care enough to try and save them," Arciana said. Brady turned to face her, catching her hand in his own once more. God how he delighted in even that simple touch.

"You're referring to yourself, aren't you?" Arciana nodded.

"Yes. I never did. Until now," Arciana replied. Brady opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he would have said was silenced by a knock on the door.

"King Brady, the council wishes to call an emergency meeting. Everyone is waiting for you in the Conference Room," Harold called. He'd been lucky; only Lord Banks hadn't still been in the castle. Brady sighed.

"Thank you, Harold. I will meet you there in a moment," Brady replied.

"Yes, Your Majesty." With that, Harold hurried off, scroll in hand, to alert Shawn, whom he knew would wish to be present at the meeting. Brady turned his eyes back on Arciana, before silently pulling her hand up to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

"I shall have to bid you good night now, Mistress Arciana. We can talk of your travel arrangements, should you still wish to leave, in the morning," Brady said, releasing her hand and moving towards the door, leaving her reeling from the sensation of his wondrous lips on her skin. Slowly, Arciana pulled herself out of the daze enough to turn towards him as he opened the door.

"Thank you, Brady," Arciana said softly. Brady simply nodded, not needing her spoken thank you. He could see her over-whelming gratitude in her eyes. It pained him to think no one had ever been kind to her. She deserved all the happiness in the world.

"Rest well, Arciana," Brady said before departing the room. Arciana watched him go, before walking over to the door to blow out the two large candles which rested on either side of it. She blew out the candles on the vanity, desk, and aside the bathroom door, before making her way to her huge, lonely bed. Wait... lonely? That was the way she wanted it, right? No man could be trusted enough to share a bed with without trying to take advantage of her. Arciana shook her head as she blew out the last candle on her bedside table and slipped under the covers. No, there was one man she knew would never take advantage of her in any situation; Brady Black...

Brady rested his elbows on the table, bringing his hands up to massage his temples. All around him, every member of his council was yelling, bickering and arguing so loudly that Brady would have thought the room itself would explode. Perhaps the only actual words that could be made out were "this is insane!" and "are you mad! it's about bloody time!" Brady had no idea his council was so split over the issue of slavery. Most times, the issue was ignored or overlooked.

"Alright already, everyone be quiet!" Brady yelled, but got no response. The men in the conference room continued to bicker. "Enough! That is a direct order from your King!" Brady boomed, finally catching their attention. The room went from chaotic zoo to deafly quiet in a split second. "Good. Now, just sit down, and stay calm," Brady ordered. Every member complied, though Lord Banks did so begrudgingly. Like his daughter, he loathed taking orders. Unlike his daughter, however, Lord Banks had respect for authority. He was a law abiding citizen, and he knew full well that Brady, though troubled, was a good and respectable King. "Alright. You may speak your concerns or support rationally and calmly. But any more outbursts and I will dismiss each and every one of you from this council," Brady warned. He rather wished Shawn were still there; they had been in the conference room for nearly an hour and had accomplished nothing except giving Shawn, Brady, and Harold one hell of a headache. Each time Brady got everyone settled down, another argument arose. "You may each speak, one at a time."

"Your Majesty, you can't really be considering abolishing slavery. What will the people say? And the Lords! We count on their generous donations to fund the war with the Kiriakis family!" protested one man, a Lord by the name of Thomas Blaney.

"Don't you mean bribes?" huffed another, Lord James Westermen, who was feverently against slavery.

"I'm not just thinking, Thomas, it will be done," Brady stated.

"But Your Majesty, surely you jest! Slavery is a part of our history, it's tradition," argued Lord Jacob Rately.

"I think not Jacob. If you will remember, it was the Kiriakis family who introduced slavery in Nero. This whole war started because our ancestors disagreed with the sale of human life," Brady pointed out.

"I agree with you, King Brady. This has to end. It's been far too long over due," stated Lord Andrew Winters.

"Though you may be right about the need to end slavery, King Brady, I must employ you to reconsider being so hasty about passing this law," said Lord Banks. "You all know where I stand with slavery. I loathe it. But, as much as I would love to see this law passed, much conflict could arise within Nero over this. We have enough trouble with the war against Mucche without having a civil war on our hands as well!"

"I see your point, but I will not reconsider my decision. I have considered the consequences, but that makes no difference now. Innocent people from a neutral country, a country run by one of my dearest and closest friends, are being abducted from their homes to be sold into a life of servitude. I can not allow this thievery of human life to continue! My people, and those of our peaceful neighbors, come first. And this has shown me that even Neroeans are not safe from the slave traders. This ends here and now. As Andrew, and many of you believe, the abolishing of slavery has been put off too long," Brady said. "I realize many of you are for slavery. Some of you even have a few slaves of your own I'm sure you don't want to lose. I do not wish to punish all for the crimes of a few, but it must be done. Slavery in itself is immoral and, in my opinion, inhuman. But this... this is just disgusting, and should be put to an end immediately. Innocent people are suffering."

"Have you even any proof Rubinoeans have been illegally sold here in Nero?" questioned Lord Banks.

"Yes, he does," Harold stated from his place by the door. Brady nodded; though he wished not to mention Arciana, she was his proof that Rubinoeans were being sold.

"Harold is right, I do," Brady stated. "This afternoon, I left the palace to meet with King Shawn, who traveled in from Supervisore to meet with me. Shawn informed me of his fears that his people were no longer safe. He also proposed a union between Nero, Rubino, Supervisore, and now Arcadia against Mucche. That I will discuss with you when I have more details; I will be making a public announcement concerning my departure in the morning."

"A union against Mucche would be superb, but what does that have to do with the issue of slavery?" Jacob demanded.

"If you would let me finish, Jacob, you'd get your answer," Brady returned, shutting Jacob up immediately and causing a few snickers from council members who disliked Jacob with a passion. "After my meeting with Shawn, Lord Hawk dragged Shawn and I to the weekly slave auction. You all know how against slavery all 3 of us are, but you also know that Hawk is... well, not your average person," Brady said. Many council members nodded their heads in agreement, one of which was Hawk's own father. "At Hawk's persistent insistence, Shawn and I attended the slave auction. While I was there, the last slave to be brought out caught my attention. So passionately so, that I bid on her and won. I..."

"You hypocrite! Preaching to us about how immoral and inhuman slavery is, when you're off buying your own slaves, female ones no less!" Jacob boomed.

"What right have you to speak to our King like that!" Andrew demanded, shooting up from his chair. But Brady waved his hand, bidding him to sit.

"Please Andrew, sit. I shall handle this," Brady stated. Andrew, having nothing but respect for his King, nodded, complying without question. Brady leaned forward towards Jacob, who was directly across the table from him. Brady got right in his face before speaking. "Have you ever let any of your many slaves go, Jacob? Paid for their freedom perhaps? No, you have not. You speak as if you are better, and yet, all but one of your slaves are female. I know now why you never let them out in public. On my way to meet Shawn, I bumped into a disoriented Mary, the whole of her right cheek bruised and purple. I didn't take the time to realize it then, but I think I understand now. You rape them, don't you Jacob?" Brady asked calmly, which was very unnerving to Jacob. The fact that the room had grown so still and quiet you could drop a pin and hear it didn't help. "Your King asked a question of you, Jacob. Answer it."

"It is my right! I own them, I may do as I wish with them!" Jacob boomed.

"Not any more," Brady said calmly. "My only regret is that I can not have you arrested under current law. But I can tell you this. You are a disgusting, thieving, lying, whoring and despicable little man. And if I catch you ever taking advantage of a woman, slave or otherwise, I will have you castrated and banished from Nero. Now get out of my sight. You sicken me," Brady ordered, leaning back into his seat. Jacob sat astonished, staring straight ahead yet unseeing at Brady. "Are you deaf, Jacob? I said you are dismissed. Harold, will you please escort Jacob out of the palace. Stick him in an inn somewhere. He is not to be within 100 yards of his home until every last one of his slaves are safely freed. Please alert his wife, and the town guard as well. If he's caught anywhere near any of those slaves, then I will have grounds to arrest and banish him," Brady said. Harold nodded, glad to follow his request as he hated Jacob, even more so then Hawk. Harold stepped forward, grabbing Jacob's arm.

"Come along, Jacob. You're lucky this time. You won't be again," Harold said, forcefully pulling a still stunned but now fuming Jacob up and out the door, unintentionally forgetting to close it. Harold was never a violent man, but men like Jacob got him so upset, appalled and disappointed that he couldn't help but be aggressive or angry. Brady shook his head sadly. There should be more he could do to avenge those people's suffering, but Brady was a fair, law abiding king. The laws, up until now, claimed slaves as property one could do with what they would. Brady now felt the sorrow of every Black King before him; slavery was another sacrifice the Blacks had endured for the sake of their people. But no more. The union would fund the war now. Brady only needed to deal with the reactions of the citizens.

"I want the Mendez family arrested on charges of knowingly selling free citizens from a neutral country Have Faye and her two children questioned, but I'm certain they had nothing to do with it," Brady said quietly. He'd met Faye Mendez, formerly Faye Walker, only once, but it was easy to tell though she loved her deceased husband, she hated his family.

"And it shall be done, Your Majesty. But, you still have not told us of your proof to these claims," Lord Banks stated.

"Oh, yes. I am sorry. Jacob's outburst got me off track," Brady apologized. "The girl I purchased, she is one of the citizens who've been abducted from Rubino. She, along with many others, were taking this morning."

"This girl told you this?" Andrew asked.

"Yes. She is here now, of her own free will I assure you. I offered her a place to stay, but she is now free. Her name is Arciana."

"I knew that girl was no princess," Cynthia stated from the doorway which Harold had accidentally left open.

"Daughter! You should know better then to easedrop!" Lord Banks scolded.

"It is quite alright, Lord Banks. Cynthia ran in to us in the hallway earlier. I am sorry that I had to lie. I felt the need to protect Arciana's true identity, since at the time all I knew about her was she was a slave," Brady stated.

"It's alright, Your Majesty. If my daughter were not so nosy, you would not have had to lie. Cynthia, you are to go home to your mother now. Close the door on your way out," Lord Banks instructed.

"Yes father," Cynthia said with fake politeness, obediently stepping out of the room and closing the door. As she had done earlier, Cynthia leaned against the closed conference door, this time with a sly smirk on her face. She'd over heard that Brady would be leaving in the morning from one of the 3 other rebels which had access to the palace. "I'm going to find out who that girl really is while you're gone Brady. And when I do, you're going down," Cynthia vowed, before she began her trek out of the palace to meet with another rebel she wanted to ask advice of.

"So, this girl, she's Rubinoean?" Andrew asked.

"As far as I know, not originally. She told me only that she was a slave here in Nero most of her life. But, when her master died, his wife and son freed her. She fled to Rubino, and has been there for the past few years," Brady answered.

"Will Arciana be speaking at your public announcement? Hearing from an actual victim of these crimes might help sway the crowd to support the end of slavery. Only a few like the Mendez family remain. They shouldn't be hard to deal with." Lord Banks stated.

"I agree. Not all of us have become greedy like the Mendez clan, or power crazed like Jacob. Arciana's word might help sway those that need to get a taste of reality," agreed Andrew.

"I will speak to her about it, though I'm not sure if she should. She's been through enough without having to deal with the watchful, judging eye of a crowd of strangers," Brady stated. "Does this mean you all support my decree? I'm signing it here and now, with or without support. But I would prefer to have your consent. Will you all sign?" Brady asked, picking up a quill and dipping it into the open ink well that sat beside the official decree in front of him. There was a pause while the 14 council members exchanged silent glances. Finally, Lord Banks stepped forward, taking the quill from Brady.

"I believe I speak for us all when I say, we would be honored to sign, Your Majesty," Lord Banks stated, scribbling his signature on the scroll in the large blank space left for signatures. Andrew was next, followed by each remaining member until only Thomas remained seated in his chair. Next to Jacob, Thomas supported slavery the most. But, unlike Jacob, Thomas truly cared for the rights and well being of the citizens.

"Thomas? Will you sign as well, or shall I assume you still do not support me?" Brady asked, holding up the quill. Thomas stood, going to the side of the table closest to the door, momentarily making Brady believe Thomas was leaving. Instead of heading out the door, Thomas came around the table to Brady's side, taking up the quill.

"You are a very persuasive man, Your Majesty," Thomas stated before he added his signature to the document. Brady smiled slightly as Thomas handed him the quill, which he dipped in the ink well before adding his own signature in large, bold handwriting at the very bottom right corner of the decree.

"Thank you very much, all of you. I invite you all to speak on behalf of this decree tomorrow morning. I would also appreciate hearing your opinions on the impending union, which I will give details about in the morning."

"You shall, Your Majesty. As you well know, we are all very opinionated, and most of us do so love to hear the sound of our own voices," Andrew joked, causing them all to share a good hearted laugh. Brady stood, checking to see that the ink was dry before rolling up the scroll.

"Then I shall bid you good evening. Rest well, my friends. Should any of you wish to stay, you know you're always welcome here. Good night, gentlemen," Brady said, bowing his head before excusing himself. He walked out the door, heading to his chambers. He would need to rest well himself. Brady had a long day ahead of him, which could very well lead to many more very long days...

"...And so, ladies and gentlemen, I bid you all a good day. I shall depart for Arcadia upon the hour, and when I return, Nero and it's new allies will rise above all the hardships we have endured to claim victory over our enemies," Brady finished his speech, which had started well over an hour before. The crowd, which now supported Brady completely and without doubt, cheered loudly at this, many "praise our mighty King"s being heard above the crowd. "I leave you now to Lord Banks and Lord Winters, who wish to speak more to you on both issues. Thank you all for your continuing support. Without a strong unity between every citizen and it's government, no order would prevail. Thank you, and may God be with you all." The crowd cheered loudly once more before Brady disappeared behind the curtain which separated his chambers from the balcony.

He smiled to himself when he heard Lord Banks begin what would most likely be a very long winded, drawn out speech. Brady had never felt so much relief, or peace, in his life. To tell the truth, he'd been rather nervous about the impending announcement. He knew in his heart it had to be done, and was too long over due, but he didn't want to cause rioting within his own kingdom. That is what almost happened. One big riot had nearly erupted from the crowd's initial reaction; just as in the conference room, arguments immediately arose between those that supported slavery and those that were against it. Two family groups were taken to be imprisoned alongside the Mendez family, which had been rounded up the previous night. Only two Mendez's remained out of custody- Faye and her only son Brandon. Nicole had recently become involved with her father's relatives, so she had been taken in as well. The two families taken during the short outbreak had both been against the new law, each unwilling to give up it's slaves. Just as last night, Brady took control of the situation, having the troublemakers arrested and calming the crowd as well as swaying them all the support him and band together. It hadn't taken much, with the 3 most prominent supporters of slavery out of the way. Brady managed to get the crowd's complete support; all slaves would be peacefully freed by midday.

Harold had campaigned for an addition to the law before it's signing, that would allow every slave in Nero protection; any former slave who wished to stay in Nero would be given a small plot of land to live and farm on, or would be provided with housing within the city and a good high paying job. Those that wanted out of Nero would be provided with free transportation and any family member they wished to find would be tracked down. A set amount of money would be provided for each slave whether they stayed or left, and the royal council would be in charge of getting those slaves who wished to leave on their feet. Many had opposed this, saying the law was far too generous considering money had to be conserved for use during the war. But Brady had persuaded them to see things different, to see it as Nero signaling it's return to it's roots. A few Neroean families would still no doubt appose when the guards came to escort the freed slaves away, but the situation was under control now. For the first time in centuries, Nero's future looked bright, peaceful, and prosperous. Brady had been unaware that many of his generation had finally returned to their original ancestors beliefs and were as disgusted with the actions of a few citizens as he was.

The announcement regarding the union went very well too. By that time the crowd had Brady's support no matter what. A union between Nero and it's peaceful neighbors against Mucche had been longed for for many years. The last time a union was proposed, ironically under King Brady Black nearly 125 years before Brady's time, the idea fell under when both Rubino and Supervisore's kings refused to "endanger the innocent citizens of their countries." Now, under Philip Kiriakis' rule, neither country would be safe from Mucche. 125 years ago, King Brady Black had worked his whole life to prove his worth, but had failed to bring peace for his country. The present King Brady had too worked his whole life to find peace, and within such a short life-time had already proved he was more then worthy.

"That was a wonderful speech," Arciana stated as Brady came up to her. She had been waiting inside in his chambers, seated on a large, comfortable sofa, for Brady to come inside. Although she hadn't wished to speak in the announcement, she had listened to the entire speech from her place inside Brady's chambers. Brady smiled at her as he sat down beside her on the sofa, careful not sit on the train of her beautiful purple dress. She looked simply stunning, with her hair pinned up, allowing a few stray curly ringlets to frame her perfect face and her new dress which fit as if it were made to conform to her body alone. She looked like a beautiful princess, only without the rich stuffed shirt air most princesses her age possessed. She presented a royal air like Belle-- strong, loving, and so caring she would sooner give up the clothing on her back and the food on her plate then see even a stranger go without proper clothes and food.

"Thank you. I must confess I was rather worried that things wouldn't go half as smoothly as they have," Brady returned.

"You did amazingly well. I know I wouldn't have been able to handle even that short outburst," Arciana said.

"I think you underestimate yourself far too much," Brady stated. "Would you like to go for a walk in the courtyard? I have time before Shawn and I must leave, and we'll have the place to ourselves. It's such a beautiful day, and I hear the roses are in full bloom." Arciana smiled at him, nodding her head.

"I'd love to," Arciana replied. Brady stood, offering her his hand.

"May I have the honor, dear lady?" Brady asked, a sly grin on his face that caused Arciana to be unable to suppress a giggle.

"Yes, you may," Arciana replied, taking his hand to stand. Upon standing, Arciana looped her arm in his, placing her hand on his lower arm. They walked out of his chambers together, not speaking except to cheerfully greet anyone they passed while walking through the palace hallways. Brady led her outside into the beautiful vast gardens of the courtyard. The most exquisite, exotic flowers bloomed there in the royal gardens. Roses, violets, baby's breath, orchids, lilies, carnations, any type of flower imaginable could be found in the most vibrant of colors. A large apple orchard was at the very back of the gardens, which housed the reddest red apples in the land as well as apples of the most glorious golden yellow and purest green. They walked through the garden path in the most comfortable of silence, until Arciana came to a very rare rose bush. "Oh my! How do you get them that color!" Arciana marveled, unraveling her arm from his and approaching the bush. She delicately cupped one of the rare roses in her gloved hands, bowing her head to smell the sweet scent the flower gave. The roses were a light purple shade, perfectly matching that of her dress and gloves which reached to her elbows.

"You have a very observant eye. Those roses are very rare. Actually, that is the only bush I know of in all of Salem. It is a crossbreed. The royal gardener does many experiments with cross-breeding flowers of all kinds and colors. He calls them hybrids. These roses are his favorite creation. They were Isabella's favorite as well," Brady stated. He stepped forward, reaching for the flower in her hands. Silently, he took out his boot dagger, cutting the rose right at the very base of the bulb, freeing it from it's green, thorny stem. After replacing his dagger in it's place, Brady reached for the base of Arciana's neck, pulling out one of the many pins in her hair; the particular one he chose must have been unnecessary for her hair stayed in place. Careful not to invade her.. personal regions, Brady carefully pinned the light purple rose to her strapless off the shoulder dress, pinning it at the very top of her dress on the right side. "There, now the dress is perfect. Almost heavenly. You can press the flower in a book later, if you wish to preserve it."

"Thank you," Arciana smiled, placing her hand on his. She seemed to be saying that a lot, but she even knew he didn't need to hear the words; he saw her true appreciation in her eyes. "The gardens are so beautiful. I've never seen any like them."

"The apple orchard is just as nice. Have you ever eaten a golden apple?" Brady asked, referring to the delicious golden yellow apples which grew in the orchard.

"Can't say I have," Arciana replied.

"Well, there's always a first time for everything," Brady stated, taking her hand and leading her through the rest of the garden to the apple orchards. He led her to the batch of yellow apple tress, reaching up and plucking a perfect golden apple from it's branches. "Here, try one."

"Only if you join me," Arciana replied, taking the apple in her hands. Brady smiled, plucking a second apple from the tree.

"As the lady wishes," Brady replied. They each took a bite of their apples, and Arciana was instantly in heaven.

"Mmmmm... this is soooo good!" Arciana said through a mouthful of apple. Brady laughed, swallowing his bite before wiping a bit of juice off the corner of Arciana's lips.

"The best in all of Salem. Isabella practically lived on these. They were often the only thing father and Marlena could get her to eat when she was a child," Brady said. "I don't come out here enough. I should come more often."

"It's a very beautiful place. Very peaceful," Arciana mumbled through her 2nd bite of apple.

"That it is," Brady agreed. They were both finished with their apples in no time, discarding the leftover cores. Silently, Brady reclaimed Arciana's hand, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He did not feel like a King with her. He felt like an ordinary person, no different then the citizens of his country. That was a feeling he'd longed for, a feeling like he finally belonged somewhere. Like he wasn't alienated simply because he possessed a high title. Brady led Arciana to the edge of the gardens where there was a large, rounded hill. The hill had the richest, greenest grass, and at the top was a shady willow tree. Brady led her to the top of the hill, taking them over to the tree. He then took off his vest, laying it down for Arciana to sit on.

"Sure I should be sitting on the royal clothing?" Arciana joked. Brady smiled, helping her sit and giving her a moment to adjust her dress so as not to wrinkle it before he sat down on the grass beside her.

"Clothing's clothing," Brady replied, leaning his back against the huge tree trunk. Almost involuntarily, Arciana leaned into Brady, her eyes glancing out over the gardens. The view from the hill top was spectacular. Not only the view, but the sounds. Chirping birds, noisy bugs and bees going about their daily routine, the soothing trickle of water in a creek which ran behind the apple orchards, all created such a peaceful, harmonious background.

"This really is an amazing sight. I can't imagine there being anywhere more beautiful on the face of the earth," Arciana said.

"Well, I agree that this is a very amazing sight. But, I know of an even more beautiful spot, not tainted by the view of the palace. If you were to stay, I could show you sometime," Brady stated. Arciana tensed slightly, sighing sadly. If only she could stay...

"Brady, you know I can't..."

"Why not? You said yourself that you have no where else to go. You could stay here, in the palace. As you've seen, there's more then plenty of room," Brady stated. He was desperate to get her to stay. He couldn't let her leave, especially not understanding why she couldn't stay. But he was torn; he yearned for her to stay, but didn't want to push her to do something she didn't want to do.

"I know there's room, and I really appreciate the offer, but I just couldn't. It wouldn't be right. You've done so much for me already..." So that was it? She was just afraid she was taking advantage? For a moment, Brady felt a small glimmer of hope rise, but it died quickly. Somehow, he just sensed that wasn't the reason she wouldn't stay.

"I'm not doing anything I don't want to, Arciana. I was born into a very powerful, royal family with a lot of wealth. It's time I start putting my inheritance to good use to help people as a King should," Brady stated. Arciana silently wondered why she never felt humbled to be in the presence of royalty. True, she herself had royal blood coursing through her veins, though she never would admit that, to either him or herself. But she had felt somewhat uneasy with Shawn, like she didn't belong near someone of such ultimately high status. Brady had never given her such a feeling. With each passing moment, she regretted her initial reaction to his being a Black more and more.

"I should say you're doing a very good job of helping people, Brady. All those people... finally have freedom, because of you," Arciana said.

"No. Because of you," Brady corrected. "You opened my eyes, Arciana, to the suffering and hardships I need to put to an end. And I thank you for that. Won't you stay here with me? I feel this desire, this need, to offer you a home. I get this feeling... that no one has ever provided that for you, a real, true home."

"You're right. No one ever has," Arciana replied sadly, looking away from him. "But, you don't owe me anything Brady. If anything, I owe you. I don't want you to feel obligated to do these things for me."

"I don't feel any obligation when it comes to you Arciana. I could very well have just let you run off at the slave auction and be done with it, but that wouldn't have felt complete. I don't want to leave things unfinished. And as I said, I never do anything I don't want to," Brady replied. "Look, if you don't want to stay, I won't stop you. I always keep my promises, and I promised you safe passage to whereever you so desire. But... I would just feel better if you were to stay here. If not in the palace, then somewhere in Nero. This new law protects you from slavery here, but I can't protect you in other lands. Yes, you might be vulnerable to Mucchean attack here, but... at least you'd have an entire army and royal guard here on your side to keep you from harm. And me, when I return from Arcadia. Here, I can watch over you."

"Why do I matter so much to you?" Arciana asked quietly, turning her head to look him in the eye. Brady paused; did he have an answer for that? Yes; but could he make her understand?

"Do you remember, last night, I told you about a girl I searched for for years?" Brady asked. Arciana nodded. "That young girl caught my attention, after meeting her for only a few brief moments. At the time, I didn't see it, didn't know I should have helped her instead, but afterwards, I felt it. I was drawn to find her, save her from a life of terror I blamed myself for. I knew nothing about her, and yet everything she was, I was too. I feel this same feeling with you. You've never had anyone you could ever truly trust, and I want to be that. I failed with that girl over 13 years ago,. I don't want to fail with you as well," Brady said sincerely. Arciana looked away again, appearing to be in deep thought. His words aroused new emotions in her. No, not new. Just buried. All her life, she had felt a longing deep down inside her. An urge to find the source of the longing which pulled her to some unknown force. Only Arciana never knew what, or perhaps who, it was her heart longed for. She only knew that if she didn't find it soon, she would die. Brady now gave her a similar feeling, one she'd felt the moment they met but had refused to acknowledge. She wanted to let him in, let him be the one she could trust to take away her pain. She only prayed her next two words would not seal the fate she feared would become of her; she feared Brady would grow to hate her when he discovered her true identity.

"I'll stay," Arciana said, barely above a whisper.

"You'll stay?" Brady asked hopefully. Arciana turned her head to face him once more, a small smile on her face.

"I'll stay," Arciana answered. "As long as you promise not to spoil me with your over-protective kindness," Arciana teased. Brady grinned, shaking his head.

"I'll try. Can't make any promises though," Brady stated. He glanced off towards the palace, catching sight of the carriage which was being prepared for his and Shawn's departure. "Oh, I've got to be going. I have to inform Harold and the staff that you'll be staying with us. You can stay where you slept last night. Don't ask me not to provide new clothes for you, because Harold's a clothing freak and will insist upon picking out a whole new wardrobe for you," Brady stated. Arciana laughed, shaking her head; she already knew, though she felt somewhat uncomfortable around him, that she liked Harold. He was obviously a very good friend to Brady. "Would you like me to escort you back to your room now?"

"No, thank you. I'd like to stay out here awhile, if that's alright."

"Stay as long as you like," Brady replied, standing up and brushing himself off. He stood in front of her, reaching down and taking her hand, gently kissing the back of it as he had done the night before. "Good bye, Mistress Arciana. I hope to be gone no more then 2 days. Until then."

"Until then," Arciana whispered, as she was again reeling in the sensation of his lips on her skin. Brady flashed her one last smile before he turned to head down the hill, disappearing from sight in the grove of apple trees and exotic flowers. Arciana watched him leave, and when it was time for the carriage to leave, she descended the hill and watched as Shawn and Brady were carried out on the road leading towards the river. Arciana smiled to herself to see the cheering people waving at the side of the road; if one thought Brady was popular amongst his people before, they should see the townspeople now. Arciana sighed, lowering her head and beginning to walk back to her room. She only hoped her popularity with Brady didn't fall, once he found out who she really was...


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Brady sighed deeply, once again bringing his hands up to massage his temples. He'd arrived in Arcadia nearly 2 hours ago, and the kings had been in meeting ever since. The meeting was unfortunately going just like last nights meeting in Nero, the only difference being the difference in topic. Though Jason was the ally which had brought King David to the meeting, the two had been bickering over one thing or another ever since the meeting began. At current, they were arguing over the cons of uniting the countries, with David's daughter Miriam standing awkwardly against the wall behind them, looking back and forth between her father and the man who held her heart. Shawn was just as frustrated as Brady, sitting directly across from Jason and David.

"...But don't you see, Jason, a union between the countries against Mucche may not be enough! It is no secret that the Mucchean army is strong. Though a union would make us more equal in number, it might only result in further angering the Mucchean people!" David argued.

"What are you saying, David? What else is there to do? Try to talk PEACE with those butchers? Ha! That'll be the day when pigs fly!" Jason returned stubbornly. Shawn shook his head disapprovingly, catching Brady's eye. For such great friends, given only through Miriam and Jason's affection for her, David and Jason sure as hell couldn't agree on anything. Brady shrugged at Shawn's "what are we going to do about them?" look; Brady could easily handle his council members, but 2 hotheaded Kings were quite a different story.

"Jason, you know I despise them as much as you do. But at this point, Arcadia is not in any danger. Perhaps if we were to try and talk peace..."

"You would find yourself in an early grave, David," Brady interjected. "There is not a single person, man woman or child, who can be trusted to keep their word in Mucche. And that goes double for King Philip and his men. You go there, and you'll not only be surrendering your country, but your life." David had been doing some thinking since Shawn summoned Brady to the meeting, and at this point believed that a more peaceful approach was the only answer.

"Father, you know he's right. Please reconsider going to that dreadful place," Miriam pleaded, finally speaking up from her place pressed nervously against the wall. David had gone so far as to arrange for travel, which had outraged Jason to no end.

"Miriam, you were not asked to speak..."

"Then you shouldn't have asked her to attend the meeting!" Jason snapped.

"Would you both just shut up?" Brady demanded, finally growing weary of their constant bickering. "Look, David... I understand your fears, and you're need to protect your own people. But Jason is right. There is no peaceful way to approach King Philip. Believe me, if there were, I would be all for it, as I am just as sick of this war as the rest of you. But there isn't. A union between us is our only option. I know you want to believe that there is a way to avoid Mucche going after Arcadia, but that is completely false hope. Deep down, you know that if Mucche succeeds in capturing Rubino, Supervisore and Arcadia are next." David seemed to want to argue, but paused, before sighing in defeat, lowering his head to look at his hands on the table.

"I know you are right, Brady, but I can not help but feel perhaps this was a rash decision," David stated.

"We understand your concerns, David. Uniting our countries is a huge step, and shouldn't we taken lightly. But I'm afraid we do not have any other option. You must see this from Brady and my point of view. David, our people's rights are being violated. Neutral townspeople were being taken from their homes and sold into slavery, within the walls of Nero no less! That has been handled, but if we do not take action now, there is no telling what could happen in the future, not only in Rubino and Nero, but Arcadia and Supervisore," Shawn argued. David nodded, as if in agreement.

"I know, Shawn, I know. I suppose I still believe in my father's words, that no good can come from fighting. But, we have no other choice. I know that, I just don't want to have to accept it," David stated. "What do you plan to do if we do unite the countries?"

"The only thing we can, David. Attack Mucche full force," Brady answered, sitting up slightly in his chair. "We would need to move the armies into the Neroean mountains, on the border between Nero and Mucche. Jason, Shawn, and I agree, the best approached is a surprise attack, just before dawn when the day is at it's darkest. My men could attack from the east, while Shawn's men would file in from the south. Jason's would travel by river to attack from the west, and your men would take the northern front."

"But wouldn't that leave our men far too spread out? Mucche will have the advantage if we go into their territory; they'll have their home ground to attack from. If we spread out like you have suggested, wouldn't that leave us at far too great a disadvantage?" David questioned. That of course had been the main issue between Jason, Shawn, and Brady since the plan was formed.

"It might, but it leaves the Muccheans with no path for escape. If we spread the men equally between only 3 sides, or even 2, they could retreat if need be. Our best chance is to surround them without being noticed." Brady answered.

"My only problem with this plan, David, is that the land west of Mucche is uncharted. But I think my men could handle it. Attacking from the northern front would leave you with the river to use to your advantage," Jason stated.

"How would you coordinate the attack, Jason?" Miriam asked quietly. She was a very curious young woman, asking as many questions as her father. She so often feared for her father's life; he was not as young as he used to be after all. Miriam felt it her duty to learn all she could about ruling a kingdom, should her father ever become unable to rule. Connor was still to young to take his father's place, and as much as Miriam hated to consider it, her mother, Queen Maureen Lockhart, was growing far too old herself.

"Shawn over there suggested using trained birds to communicate," Jason smirked in reply.

"Hey! It has worked in the past you know..." Shawn protested.

"Don't you two start," Brady stated. "That's something we're just going to have to take as it comes to us, Miriam. Signaling one another might tip off the Muccheans as to what we're doing, so I'm afraid we'll just have to go blindly, specifying an exact time for attack and just hoping that everyone is ready and in position. We can coordinate using riders on horseback if there is time. It's risky, but unfortunately it's the best we can do," Brady explained.

"Don't worry, Meems, the battle isn't going to be half as tricky as getting all of us to agree on the same issue," Jason reassured. Jason was perhaps the only person on the face of the earth who could get away with calling her Meems. She even hated it when her parents called her that. But not Jason... it was like the ultimate compliment from Jason for some strange reason.

"Now that I agree with," Shawn scoffed. Brady rolled his eyes at his friends arrogant tone, moving a quill off a parchment that lay in front of him.

"I sometimes wonder why our kingdoms are so prosperous, considering children are running them," Brady murmured under his breath. "Here, David, this is our official declaration of unity against Mucche. Jason, Shawn and I have all agreed to the terms, now all it needs are our signatures." Brady stated, placing the parchment in front of David. David nodded, retrieving a pair of looking glasses from within his robe and putting them on so he could read. He picked the document off the table, bringing it closer to his eyes.

"Father, why do you even bother with those old things? You see worse when you put them on," Miriam commented. David merely waved her off, as her stubborn father often did.

"Well, I can certainly tell you wrote this yourself, young Black. Most your age wouldn't comprehend half the words in this damn thing," David stated, which of course was meant as a compliment. Though David favored Jason when it came to marrying off his daughter, he had always held Brady in his highest opinion, as well as his father John before him. But John had allowed his grief to swallow up all the good he could have accomplished. David only hoped such a fate did not befall Brady.

"Am I to take that to mean you agree to these terms King David?" Brady questioned.

"Hmmm... on one condition," David answered.

"And what is that?" Brady asked curiously. David peered over his old reading glasses at him, reaching for the quill next to Brady's hand.

"You let the old man sign first," David answered, causing all uneasy faces in the meeting hall to spread into grins at David's attempt had humor. Brady chuckled, scooting an ink well over to David.

"You think we'd have it any other way?" Brady commented. David was first to sign the document, followed by Jason, Shawn, and finally, Brady himself scrawled his name across the bottom corner. "So, we're finally in agreement." Brady stated, finishing off the decree with his signature.

"For once," Jason added, flashing his famous grin, which Princess Miriam secretly found irresistible.

"What are your plans now, Brady? Such an event as this... won't be kept secret for long." David pointed out.

"Unfortunately, you're right. I have no doubt that some of King Philip's more intelligent leaders will catch wind of the union and report back to Philip. We'll need to strike quickly. How quickly, is up to the rest of you." Brady answered.

"It'll take at least half a day if not more to get my entire army into the western mountains by river," Jason pointed out.

"Yes, getting your men into position will be trickiest, you have the farthest to travel. What I'm most concerned about is... well, it's just a rumor I've heard, but I'm concerned that Michael, Philip's Head General, might have guards posted as watch along the river bank further west. Why he would, I don't know. I sure as hell know it wouldn't be Philip's doing. Philip wouldn't suspect an attack from the west. But Michael is very well trained in the arts of war. He might be a difficult challenge to face," Brady stated.

"Where did you hear that Michael has men posted along the riverside? You said it was just rumor, can you assure us the source is reliable?" Shawn questioned. Brady nodded.

"Yes, Shawn, I can assure you of the reliability of my sources. Though it's just a rumor, it is one that we should take with extreme caution. If there are guards posted along the riverside, and so much as one manages to make it back into the city to report to Philip, then the plan will be completely crushed. Jason won't have time to get into position before Philip's men are alerted, let alone time to report back to us that our cover has been blown," Brady answered.

"Perhaps we shouldn't take the chance of being seen. Jason's men could travel by land though Rubino and cross the river after they've passed the Mucchean border..."

"No, Shawn, that would take much longer. We'll already be pressed for time, taking his men by way of the river will take long enough as it is," David interrupted.

"David's right, we'll just have to take the chance, Shawn. Don't worry, I'll be on the lookout. If there are guards posted, my men will make sure not a one of them lives to report back to their precious, moronic king," Jason stated proudly.

"Jason..." Miriam warned, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was apparent to everyone that had ever met the two, that Miriam Lockhart already had Jason Masters completely and 100 percent whipped.

"I know, I know... I shouldn't say such things about people of much lower intelligence..." Jason muttered. Shawn chuckled, unable to contain the laugh.

"Jason, you are without a doubt already whipped," Shawn stated. Acting very unkingly, as Jason often did when around his closest friends, he stuck out his tongue in reply, tossing the quill in his direction.

"Yeah yeah, and you'll be just as whipped when you find yourself a girl, so shut up Shawnie Boy," Jason returned. Shawn's grin faded, and Jason immediately regretted it. As was often the case, Jason was left to feel like a complete jack ass. "Shawn, I didn't mean..." David cleared his throat, interrupting Jason's plea for forgiveness.

"Well, I believe we have almost everything settled. Accept when to carry out this plan, of course." David stated.

"It should be as quickly as possible. David, how soon can you have your men rallied and prepared for departure?" Brady asked.

"Well, it is our Summer Solstice, so most of the men have been allowed to return home from the training camps for the holiday. But it won't take long to have them all recalled into duty. They could be ready to depart as quickly as we need them to be" David answered.

"Good. Shawn, Jason, what about you? How soon can you be ready?"

"No longer then it would take David to rally his men," Shawn answered for them both. "Jason and I could leave Arcadia this afternoon, take tomorrow to get the men prepared, and we could put the plan into action the following day."

"Excellent. But I want to give Jason plenty of time. Shawn, why don't you have your men meet mine in the mountains along the eastern border the morning after tomorrow. They could set up camp there that day, then the following day your men would move to the south. That gives Jason more then plenty of time to get his men safely to the western border, and more then enough time for David to get his men off holiday leave," Brady stated.

"That sounds fair, but why not do it as Shawn said and attack the day after tomorrow instead of waiting? Waiting might give Philip time to learn of our plans," David pointed out. Brady paused, pondering his answer. He had been all for the quickest departure before. But now... he got a feeling... he couldn't describe it. It's like, somehow deep down, he knew there was now a way around attacking Mucche. It's almost as if he knew there would never be any fight at all.

"I honestly don't think Philip will learn of our attack before it's too late. But as to why I wish to wait... I can't answer that, David. I know I was pulling for a quick, night attack, but... something is telling me that we need to wait," Brady answered.

"Are you beginning to believe there is some way around this war? Because if you have any other ideas, Brady, let us know. Whether we win or lose this one blow, all of us are going to lose many of our men. There is no way around that," David stated.

"I know. I don't know of any other way to do this. Not yet at least. But, will you all just trust me on this? We'll take tomorrow to prepare, and the next to get into position. We'll attack just before the dawn 2 days from now."

"We do trust you, Brady," Shawn replied, receiving a nod of agreement from both Jason and David.

"Well, now that that's all settled... Miriam, would you please alert the kitchen staff that we're to have a grand luncheon before out guests depart this afternoon," David instructed. Miriam nodded, bowing politely.

"Yes father," Miriam replied, quietly dismissing herself from the meeting hall. David stood, as did Shawn, Jason, and Brady.

"Shall we retire to the dining room then, men? In... early celebration, shall we say?"

"David, we haven't even left for battle yet," Brady pointed out, yet with a slight smile on his face.

"Ah yes, but deep down in these old bones, I know we'll win the day. We'll face lose yes, but we'll win the day," David stated.

"I hope you're right, David. I pray to God you're right..."

(A/N: on this scene, Chloe sings a song aloud to herself. I originally wanted to post it in a foreign language with the translation underneath, but Liberty found me a perfect song to describe the feelings of this story, so I'm using it. When you get to that part, just remember that it's being sung aloud in a language completely foreign to Nero and it's inhabitants, it will be explained when you get to it. And another quick thing, I have no idea if Chloe on the show ever draws or paints, but in this story, "Arciana" is very artistically inclined, both in music and visual arts.)

Arciana sighed heavily out of boredom, staring at the drawing below her. She'd been up in her room since Brady left, which had been early that morning. It was now afternoon. She had originally decided to explore the palace, but had immediately discarded the idea. For starters, the place was HUGE, and without someone with her she feared she might get lost. A silly fear, but a fear none the less. The "without someone to guide her" part was what really kept her alone in her room. And it was not just "someone" she wanted to show her around the palace. Exploring the vast beautiful palace would not be the same without Brady. So after watching Brady and Shawn depart that morning, Arciana had went straight to her room. She retrieved the quill and ink from the desk, as well as a papyrus scroll. After putting it on a wooden palette, she laid down on her bed, head facing the headboard, to draw. She used to constantly draw as a child; if she wasn't drawing or painting, she was singing, sleeping, or eating. That had all changed so many years ago. Truth was, she hadn't drawn, or sang for that matter, since the day she'd been sold into slavery. Arciana just hadn't had the passion for either, which distressed her considering art, even as a young child, was her life.

But now, she felt... revived somehow. She felt as if an old part of herself had risen from beneath all the pain and hurt she'd experienced in her short life time and was now shining through. Arciana had been amazed that she could still draw so well after many years. Her first drawing of the morning had been one of Brady. In very fine detail, Arciana had drawn him as she remembered seeing him from the stage at the slave auction. Truth was, at the time, she had not really acknowledge him. But after meeting him, knowing him, she remembered every detail of his face when she first laid eyes on him. After finishing that one, Arciana started on another. This one she had been trying to finish for over an hour and couldn't. It was a drawing of herself as a young child, playing in the courtyard with her twin brother. She had been able to draw the courtyard as she remembered it, but when she went to draw in herself and her brother, the details become sketchy. They were there, on that piece of parchment. And yet they were so different now from what they used to be. Arciana knew she was completely different from that child she had once been. Philip probably was as well. Though she hadn't seen him since she was 8, she knew he'd changed. She could feel it. She just had no idea what he might have changed into. So, when she tried to finish the details on both herself and Philip, nothing came. It was as if she was not meant to finish such a drawing; they were too different to be recognized for what they used to be.

Arciana shook her head, putting the drawing on her bedside table next to the one of Brady, and turned over on her back to look up at the ceiling. It didn't surprise her that she could not finish a drawing of her brother and herself as a child. They would forever be left unfinished, whether it be in a painting or in real life. Arciana would never see Philip again. Truth was, she didn't know if she wanted to. She could feel that he had changed so much, and all the rumors she'd heard about him proved her beliefs to be correct. She didn't even know why she had started that drawing of herself and her brother. She didn't even know she remember what she was like so long ago. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she was carefree and happy, throwing rocks in the fountains in the courtyard with her beloved twin brother. It seemed ages ago that she was happily skipping down the hallways singing a new song she'd learned while completely oblivious to the turmoil and bloody war around her. What she wouldn't give to be so blissfully unaware again. But no, she would not wish to be back there in that place with her family. Philip would have changed with or without her, and she would not have been able to stand seeing him become just like their father. And had she stayed, she might have changed as well. Arciana turned on her stomach once again, placing the unfinished drawing back in front of her.

"Of course you would have changed. You would be Queen now if not for John Black," Arciana murmured aloud to herself, studying the drawing intently. Years ago, such a thought would have seemed laughable. But if her statement was true, then she had a lot to thank John for. Her life in slavery had been a torturous hell, but as Brady had proven, it was one she could escape from. Her family, on the other hand, was inescapable. If she hadn't been kidnaped, she would be Queen at her brother's side. There's no telling how she would have turned out; like her parents perhaps. To her, that would have been a fate worse then death. No amount of power, riches, or any title could make up for living a life of pure evil. No matter how many times Arciana tried to convince herself they weren't, that was exactly what any Kiriakis was; evil to the core. Perhaps they'd been born that way. Or perhaps, they merely let their money and power corrupt them. Who knew? All she knew was that she wanted no part of it. And though she'd lived a hellish life, she was thankful she had escaped life as a Mucchean Princess. Besides... there would be NO way she could handle being Queen. The responsibilities would be too overwhelming. Arciana put the drawing aside again, retrieving the one of Brady.

"What would it be like to be a queen?" Arciana asked herself out loud. She picked up her quill and was about to draw a little more detail into the drawing when she noticed she was out of ink. She sat up to go over to the desk, still thinking aloud. "Well, there'd be the parties, the luncheons, the public announcements," she named off to herself, retrieving the second bottle of ink from her desk. "And the council meetings, court trials, debates, treaty signing." Arciana continued, reclaiming her position laying on her stomach. "But then, there would be the wars, and the famine, droughts, natural disasters, rebellions... the list goes on," Arciana murmured aloud, picking up her quill and dipping it into her ink. "I'll take being a mere peasant any day," Arciana stated, shading in lines to give the other faces around Brady more detail. Since Brady's face was the only one she could really remember, she just drew in general shapes for the people she remember were around Brady. "Being Queen of Mucche would be more of a hell then slavery was. But then, what would being Queen of Nero be like?" Arciana asked herself. Immediately she shook her head, scolding herself, and put the quill down in frustration.

"Don't go there. You know it'll never happen. You can't let it happen," Arciana scolded herself. "I mean... even if he did have any feelings for me... that would all change once he found out I'm really Chloe Kiriakis. And, anyway, he'd never really love me... He's just... he's hurting and needs someone. And it's not like I feel anything really serious towards him." Truth was, she was trying to convince herself of that, not state a fact. Had she already fallen in love with him? Would it even matter if she had? And could Brady love her? Did he already? Arciana shook her head sadly, picking her quill back up. "What difference does it make? For starters, Brady's probably just being nice to me because he feels sorry for me. And maybe, in a way, we connect. Even if there were deeper feelings there... I can't change who my family is. Or who his family is," Arciana stated sadly, beginning to put more detail into her drawing. She sighed deeply, turning her head to the side as she drew, and began to sing a song she'd learned years and years ago.

When he passes me by

He's a ray of light

Like the first drop of sun

From the sky

And I know he's a king

Who deserves a queen

But I'm not a queen

And he doesn't see me

When he dances

He moves me to a smile

And I see everything

Near him shine

There's a grace in his ways

That I can't contain

I haven't that grace

Oh, I haven't that grace

And the closer he gets

I can't help but hide

So ashamed

Of my body and voice

There are boundaries

We pass in spite of the war

But our own

We can't seem to cross

She has a way that surrounds her

So delicate

With a glory that reigns in her life

She is also so much that she is not

These things I can't see

'Cause he doesn't see me

Oh-oh-oh ...

And he doesn't see me

There are things we can change

If we just choose to fight

But the walls of injustice are high

When he passes me by

He's a ray of light

Like the first drop of sun

From the sky

And I know he's a king

Who deserves a queen

Someone other than me

So different from me

Oh-oh-oh ...

He doesn't see me

Oh-oh-oh ...

He doesn't see me

He doesn't see me

While she was singing, Arciana didn't hear the door, which she'd mistakenly left ajar, open a bit more, allowing another figure to creep silently into her room, not wishing to disturb her music. When she finished her song, she was about to reach over to her inkwell when she heard someone speak.

"That was beautiful." The sound made Arciana literally jump, nearly knocking her inkwell over, which would have spilled ink all over her unfinished drawing of Philip and herself. Arciana turned quickly around, sitting straight up, to find Harold standing at the foot of her bed. "Oh my, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you. I was walking down the hallway when I heard your singing. The door was ajar so I just came quietly in. I didn't want to interrupt your beautiful song." Harold explained.

"Oh, Harold... it's... it's alright. I just, didn't remember leaving the door open," Arciana breathed.

"What was that song you were singing?" Harold ask curiously.

"What?"

"That song. It's not in a language I've ever heard before. Where did you learn it?" Harold asked. Arciana set her drawing of Brady aside, intentionally placing it under that of herself and Philip.

"Oh um... that..." Arciana stammered. "My father, he taught me that song." Fine, so it was a lie. She had learned part of the language from her father, and mother. It was not traditionally spoken in Mucche in present day, but was the original Mucchean language. A nanny had taught her that song, when she was 6 or so.

"Ah, I see. What language is it? Maybe I have heard of it... some of the words sounded vaguely familiar." Arciana hesitated, turning away to straighten her bedside table.

"It's Mucchean," Arciana answered truthfully.

"You're Mucchean?" Harold asked. Not in a horrified or disgusted manner, as she would expect from a Neroean. But in a generally curious tone.

"No, uh... my father... traveled a lot," Arciana answered. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. Victor did travel a lot... Harold sensed she was lying, and Arciana just knew he knew. "Would you hate to even look at me if I were?" Arciana asked. Just as Harold's question, it was one of curiosity.

"No, I would not," Harold answered truthfully. "Like Brady... well at least how he usually really feels, I don't think anyone is born bad or evil. That's just something a child is taught as they grow up. Although most Muccheans I have crossed paths with were the lowest of low-lifes, I would not automatically think that about someone just because of where they came from. You've already show me, and Brady and Shawn, that you're definitely not evil. So, if you're trying to hint that you are and just are afraid of telling me, whether it be because you fear I'll hate you or I'll tell Brady, I would reconsider that thought if I were you. All I ask, is that you're honest with me when I ask a question, and I'll be as honest with you and your questions." Harold stated. "Tell me really. Are you Mucchean?"

"Not anymore. I haven't been for a very long time," Arciana answered truthfully. She could not, would not, refer to herself as either Mucchean, or a Kiriakis. That wasn't her. Harold nodded, satisfied with her answer. "I truthfully don't know what I am. What I do know, is that I will not let where I'm from decide who I am." Of course, that didn't mean others would decide who she was based on where she was from.

"Then I greatly respect you for that," Harold stated. "So, now... just to humor my curiosity, what were you singing about?"

"Oh, nothing. I just... I've recently felt like doing the things I used to enjoy. Singing was one of them," Arciana stated. Harold nodded towards the drawings on her bedside.

"And drawing another?" Harold asked. "May I see them? I'm a big fan of the arts. If you'd rather I not, I understand..."

"No no, it's alright. You can see them. They aren't really that good. I haven't so much as picked up a quill or paint brush since I was 8," Arciana said. She grabbed one of the drawings, which happened to be the one of Brady, and handed it to Harold, who'd retrieved his ridiculous looking reading glasses. The funniest part about Harold's glasses, were not the fact that they were huge and made his eyes look extremely big, but that he didn't need them. He had perfect vision.

"Why on earth would you say this is no good? The detail is amazing! For someone who hasn't picked up a quill in so long, you're damn good," Harold praised. Of course, the fact that it was a drawing of Brady did not surprise him, nor did the fact that only Brady could be recognized. All the other figures were like faceless shadows, there only because they stood in her view of Brady.

"Thank you," Arciana managed, through a slight blush.

"Is this the town square?" Harold asked. His real question was, of course, being was this from the slave auction. Arciana nodded, retrieving the second drawing. She was not hesitant to show it; who would recognize an unfinished drawing of 2 children? Harold handed back the drawing of Brady, taking the second. "An equally detailed piece. But, it looks unfinished." Harold pointed out.

"You noticed too, huh? I can't seem to finish it. It just doesn't come to me," Arciana said.

"If I may ask, who is it of?" Harold asked quietly, studying the drawing.

"My brother and I," Arciana answered honestly. What really did she have left for Harold to find out, except who her family was? That she would never tell, but she could at least be honest with the people she was becoming to call her friends. Friends... something she'd never really ever had before.

"You have a brother?"

"Yes, I had a brother. A twin brother," Arciana answered, setting back down on her bed and gesturing for Harold to take a seat if he wanted.

"Had? You mean he died? Oh, or you mean, before you..."

"Before I was sold into slavery," Arciana finished. "Yes, that's what I mean. I suppose he's still alive, somewhere."

"And your parents?"

"You know, you ask a lot of questions Harold," Arciana teased. "I'm not sure. I don't imagine they are. I haven't seen them since I was sold into slavery. They were fairly old then, I don't believe they are still living now." She of course knew Victor was dead. Kate, on the other hand, she was not sure of. Some rumors said she was alive. Other said she was long dead. More elaborate tales said she killed herself after Victor's death, and Philip has been keeping her body in her room pretending she was alive ever since. That one she easily ruled out. Philip may have loved his mother because she was his mother, but not enough to keep her after she was gone.

"I know I have been asking many questions I have no business asking, but... have you ever looked for them?"

"No. And as far as I know, they have not for me. And I didn't want to," Arciana answered honestly. Harold nodded, sensing that he'd reached his limit in this game of 20 questions.

"I'm very sorry to hear that you wish not to see them. But you know you're always welcome here," Harold stated, handing back the drawing of Philip and herself as children. Arciana placed them both back on her bedside table. "Which brings me to why I came. King Brady informed me that you will be staying with us for some time, and that I am to pick you out a new wardrobe."

"That one I didn't agree on," Arciana pointed out.

"He said you'd say such a thing. Now, Miss Arciana, there is no way you can stay here without letting me pick you out a whole new wardrobe! I am a complete and utter clothing maniac. Please, you must agree to let me pick our your clothes! You're enjoying that dress, are you not?" Harold asked. Arciana smiled as his begging tone, running a hand over the soft fabric. She'd removed the rose Brady gave her, setting it in a small bowl of water until she could dry it and press it in a book.

"I certainly am. You do have fine taste in clothing, Harold." Arciana answered.

"So is that a yes?" Harold asked hopefully.

"Well..." Arciana prolonged. She wondered if Harold were so desperate that he'd get on his knees and plead. Such a sight would have been hilarious.

"Miss Arciana! Don't play those games with me, young lady. I understand women better then you know," Harold stated. Arciana shook her head, laughing slightly.

"Alright, alright. I suppose I'll go along with it," Arciana said. Harold was about to literally jump for joy, which his usual squeal of excitement, when Arciana continued. "But..."

"Uh oh. There's always a 'but' with your kind..." Harold murmured. Arciana smiled.

"It's not that bad. My only condition is that, you buy some fabric, of your choice if you wish, for me to make my own dress. Just 1. You can pick out any other things you wish. But I want to make one dress myself," Arciana said.

"Deal," Harold stated, thrusting out his hand for her to shake, sealing the agreement. Arciana laughed at his childish face, grasping his hand and shaking it. "Oh, but I forgot! I have things to attend to this afternoon while King Brady is in Arcadia. I won't have time to go to the market place."

"I'll go!" Arciana said, a little more enthusiastically then she would have liked. Anything to escape her boredom.

"Oh, wonderful! Do you think you could pick up a few other things for me as well? I made a list, I just haven't had the time to go shopping." Harold said, retrieving a small piece of papyrus from his pocket. "All you need do is tell the shop owners that Harold sent you, and they'll charge the amount to my account," Arciana nodded, taking the piece of papyrus. "If you should need someone to help you bring the things back here, just ask. Believe me, they'll be more then happy to oblige," Harold stated. "Are sure it's no trouble? I can go, after I get Lord Jack off my back about his stupid lame-brained ideas long enough to attend to every other little thing that needs done around here."

"Believe me, it's no trouble. I'm dying of boredom here alone, drawing in my room," Arciana stated with a grin, which made Harold's smile broaden.

"Alright then. Dinner is usually served at sundown, but of course the kitchen is open to you at any time you wish." Harold stated.

"Thank you, Harold. I won't be long. Good luck with Lord Jack," Arciana said. She had not met him, but had heard enough to know that he could be quite annoying and persistent. She stood from her bed, checking her hair in the mirror before turning towards the door.

"Oh, and Arciana?" Harold called, stopping her just as she reached the door. She turned to face him, waiting for what he had left to say. "Just out of curiosity, what was the name of that song?"

"He Doesn't See Me," Arciana answered quietly, before opening the door and leaving her room, leaving Harold with a knowing frown on his face...

Philip nervously approached the large, sparsely decorated wooden door which separated him from his elderly mother's room. It had been well over a month since he had visited his mother. He usually just left the many servants to attend to her, and only visited when he needed her advice. She might be far too old to know where she was. And it was true, she was usually either asleep or babbling nonsense. But despite the lose of a daughter she never appreciated until she was gone, good ole Crazy Queen Katherine was still, and would always be with her dying breathe, the best queen Mucche would ever have. Which, to anyone that ever had to stand through even 5 minutes of Kate's endless drabble about nothing, would explain just why Mucche could never win the ageless war with Nero. Yet still, it was all too well known, at least among those closest to him, that King Philip depended upon Kate's advice, least his kingdom fall to pieces.

It was, however, a wonder he could completely understand his mother's meaning. Ever hear the term "great minds think alike"? Rumor in Mucche speculates that the same must go for insanity. As a general rule, Philip now hated visiting his mother. It was not that he didn't love her. That was never the problem; loving his insane mother was about all Philip had the mental capacity for. Truth be told, to Queen Kate, it was like her son was not even there. If she was awake, she would acknowledge him kindly at first. But then, it did not take more then 1 minute for her to be asking Philip if Chloe was with him, or if she would be coming by later. Before young Chloe Kiriakis had disappeared, her mother could not be bothered to pay much attention to a mere girl. Her pride was always in her son. Though they were betrothed to rule the throne solely together, whether they choose to marry another down the line or not, Kate had never seen little Princess Chloe as the Queen type.

It took her daughter's disappearance to make Queen Katherine realize her affections had been misplaced. Her son had returned to her- spinning wild tales of events that could not possibly have happened within the Black Castle- to grow into a young man who was just incapable of holding his own. But her daughter, an innocent little girl who'd countless times shown signs, which were as countlessly ignored, that she was the stronger twin, had been taken away, into the harsh, cruel life of slavery. Unknown to any but those closest to the Kiriakis family, for the first time in her life, Queen Katherine Kiriakis grew a heart. She quite literally pleaded for her daughter's life, but Katherine's pleas fell upon deaf ears. John Black no longer had it in him to care for anyone, except his dear children.  
Victor had been so embarrassed to see his once strong wife crumble so at the lose of a mere girl child, he'd nearly divorced her. But divorce, especially within a royal family, was frowned upon in Mucche. So for the sake of keeping both a well liked King and Queen on the throne, Victor kept Katherine beside him. But after Chloe's capture, Kate usually kept herself locked away, in the very room which Philip had moved her in upon Victor's death. Such solitary confinement had inevitably driven Kate insane. Perhaps she always was. The lose of her daughter had left her unable to hide it with her crafty, manipulative mind. Either way, Katherine had long since outlived her husband, and though old, weak, and practically blind, had many times kept her son from losing the age old battle with Nero. Maybe even after her death, which most foretold could not be too far away, she would live on through Philip. It was doubtful her manipulative, crafty ways would rub off on the ignorant boy, not truly old enough, neither physically or mentally, to be King. God knew she'd have to for Mucche to keep from totally crumbling to ruins. General Michael Horton sure as hell couldn't keep Philip's kingdom together all by himself. He could win battles with ease, but Mike was in no way capable of convincing Philip to do anything the stubborn King wished not to do.  
Now, when Philip came to visit, he would deal with his mother's constant questioning. Old age had left Queen Katherine completely incapable of remembering that her daughter was kidnaped so many years ago, and would not be returning to her. Or perhaps it was not old age, but merely a memory the Queen did not wish to remember if only to keep what little sanity she had left. Whichever the case, Philip never could convince her that Chloe was not with him, and was never going to come see her. He usually had to give up, and feed her fancy, telling his elderly mother that Chloe was out breaking all rules of royal hierarchy, absorbing tips and battle tactics, or any other knowledge of war she could from Mike. Queen Kate seemed to like the idea of her daughter taking command, and never listening to what others told her she should do. That was, after all, the way Kate had treated her daughter, just as Victor had. Little Princess Chloe was little more then a female, put only on the earth to be pleasing to the eye, and bear male heirs to the Kiriakis throne. Katherine hadn't allowed herself to be looked upon that way, so it always made the old woman's day to hear Philip's make up tales that her precious daughter was following in her footsteps. Philip always become so frustrated when he visited his mother, even though he was grateful for her guidance. Chloe was gone! Dead more then likely, knowing the slave traders. She wasn't going to be coming back. So why should he have to live in the shadow of a girl who'd disappeared over 13 years ago? Even Philip knew that answer deep down, really. It's what saddened him the most. Even a missing child Princess was more of an asset to Mucche then he was. Philip sighed deeply, shaking off all doubt. No wonder he made such a lousy King. He was no braver today then he was 13 years ago, hiding in fear behind his twin sister. Without bothering to knock, Philip creaked the door open, peeking his head inside.  
"Mother? Are you awake?" Philip asked into the dark room. His mother rarely bothered to ask the servants to light candles. It was light outside, but since Chloe's disappearance, the room had been completely cloaked in black, as if someone had died and the family was left in mourning all this time. The servants had long since learned never to light the candles if Queen Katherine had not ordered it so, as she was known to throw the lit candles at the poor servants in disgust. "Mother?"  
"Chloe?" came the soft, hoarse reply. Philip sighed, shaking his head as he entered the room. Kate must have been awake thinking of Chloe again. She usually at least waited for him to come instead before calling for his long lost sister. Philip walked over to the window, drawing back the black curtains which blocked the sun from entering the room.  
"No, mother. It's Philip," Philip replied, in much the same bored, almost hurt tone he'd used for years when addressing his mother. Philip saw Kate wince at the sudden light; she never set foot outside the castle. Hell, these days, she didn't technically set foot on even her bedroom floor.  
"Oh, Philip! How nice it is to see you dear," Kate said, shielding her eyes from the light. "Son, be a good dear and close that blind for me will you? My old eyes can't take the bright mid-day sun anymore." Philip rolled his eyes, reaching for a candle. She was on one of her sugary sweet "I'm just an old, sweet, dying lady" kicks. Sometimes she was rather irritable, still talking as if she were a Queen demanding service from her subjects. Sometimes, she would go from sweet and kind to sharp and shrill in a mere instant. It was all a matter of what state of mind you happened to catch her in.  
"May I at least light a candle Mother? It is so very hard to see in this room with the blinds drawn closed," Philip stated, mocking her own polite tone.  
"That will be fine, Philip," Kate replied. Taking up a little ingenious item his inventors had rigged up, the only ingenious thing those clowns had accomplished, which was basically a sort of hand-held flint stone that one could strike with just one hand, Philip lit the candle, closing the blinds and placing the it on the bedside table. Before Philip could even bring up a chair to sit beside her bed, Kate was sitting up, asking the inevitable question. "Philip, when is your sister Chloe coming to see me? It has been so long. I've been waiting for her so patiently, is she coming to me today?" It was days like this Philip hated lying most. Although he knew better then to think so, when his mother was like this, she seemed so lost and helpless. It was the smile upon his mother's lips at the hope her precious daughter would visit her that hurt most.  
"No, mother, Chloe will not be coming today," Philip answered quietly. Kate's smile immediately melted, replaced with a forlorn frown. Such a change his mother had undergone in merely 13 years. It was true, she was old, but she looked 10 times older then she should be now. Grief had not been kind to her. Her once beautiful, flawless face was now tainted by wrinkles which came well before their time. Kate turned her head away from her son, as if to keep him from seeing her pain.  
"Why does she never visit, Philip? Am I not good enough for my own daughter anymore? It has been so long..."  
"Mother, do not think anything of the sort. Of course you are good enough for Chloe." Sometimes... he believed Chloe was not good enough for their mother's love. It was a thought he cursed himself for afterwards. He loved his dear twin sister, and missed her as much as their mother did. Just not quite so... severely. "Mother, I've come to ask for your assistance, in an urgent matter." Kate nodded, as if she'd known that was the case. Queen Katherine often knew things she shouldn't. It was the one of the only gifts which had not been taken from her in her grief.  
"Yes, I know. But first, answer me this? Why does Chloe not come? The truth, my son. She never liked Michael as a child. She'd never spend so much time with him..." Kate muttered. Philip sighed, taking his mother's old, wrinkled yet still elegant hand in his much larger hands.  
"Mother, you know the truth. You've always known. You just refuse to acknowledge it," Philip replied. "Chloe is gone, Mother. She has been gone for over 13 years, and she is not going to be coming back."  
"No. No you don't know what you're talking about, fool boy!" Kate swore, pushing her son's hand away. As was often the case, any time he tried to reason with his mother about Chloe, Kate would yell at him, pushing him away and denying a truth she'd been avoiding for 13 years. Philip shook his head, unable to allow his mother to push him away this time.  
"Mother, please, don't do this again. I need your help now Mother. Deep down, you have always known that Chloe is gone. You must accept that now, and help me get revenge on the people that took Chloe from you. Mother please, will you help me? Help me avenge Chloe?" Philip pleaded. But this time, Kate would be giving no advice. Her head shot up, towards the window... but it was not the window she was looking at. She was just... looking straight ahead, at something Philip could neither see nor understand.  
"Chloe?" Kate whispered.  
"Mother, I told you, Chloe's not..."  
"He has my baby! That monster has my baby!" Kate screamed, cutting Philip off. Philip jumped back slightly in shock as his mother lashed out at him. Not at him, really, but at the unseen force. Kate flailed her arms, as if she were being attacked by someone and was fending herself off. "No! Get your hands off my baby! Get away from her!" Kate was completely out of control, kicking and screaming like a young child having a temper tantrum. Philip, not knowing what else to do, grasped his mother by the shoulders, trying to calm her down. Never in his life had she done something like this. It was as if she had finally gone completely mad.  
"Mother, stop it! Stop this at once! She's gone Mother! Chloe's not coming back!" Philip yelled, trying in vain to contain his mothers desperate attempts to fight off the evil only she could see. With strength Philip never knew was left in Queen Katherine's weak body, she turned her attention onto him, not seeing her son in him anymore. Pushing with all her might, Kate fought against her son's strong grasp, shoving his face and trying to kick him though her legs were still, at least partially so, under her thick covers.  
"No! Get away from me! Stay away from my daughter, you monster! Let go!" Kate screamed, thrashing wildly with each screeched command.  
"Mother, STOP! You're going to kill yourself if you don't stop this! Nadine! Charles! Someone, help! Queen Katherine needs you!" Philip screamed for two of Kate's keepers whom he knew were near by that he'd passed them in the hallway, telling them to stay close but out of the room until he left. Kate did not hear his pleas for her to cease, least she hurt herself. She did not see her young, now only child in front of her any more. All she saw was that he was keeping her from her daughter. Her daughter, who was calling out for her. No one but Kate could hear her poor Chloe's cries. She had to stop him... she had to stop that monster from taking her daughter away! With strength that only a mother can summon when protecting it's young, Kate shoved Philip hard in the chest, knocking not only the wind out of him, but knocking him and his chair to the floor. Too stunned to react, Philip did not see his mother literally lunge up off her bed, after so long without so much as setting foot on the floor, and take up the chair. Raising it as high above her head as her arms could manage, Kate crashed the chair down upon her son.  
"Stay away from her! You stay away from my little girl, you monster! You can't take her from me!" Kate screamed, bringing the chair, now missing one leg, back up again. Philip tried to scramble away, but only managed to back himself up against the wall, giving Kate the opportunity to bring the chair crashing down upon his form again.  
"Stop it! Stop it Mother!" Philip screamed in vain. His mother could not hear him. This was the kind of thing he always had feared his father would do to him, but NEVER his beloved mother. Kate brought the battered chair up again, determined to defeat her "daughter's capture."  
"You'll never have her! She'll never be yours! NEVER! Do you hear me! She'll never be yours!"  
"Mother! Mother stop it, please!" Philip yelled, bringing his arms up to block another blow from the hateful chair.  
"Mistress Katherine! Stop that at once!" It was Charles, who had, along with Nadine, ran to the doorway upon first hearing Philip yell for them. Charles advanced, thinking he could easily over-power the frail woman-- he was after all more then twice her size. But he thought wrong. Kate slammed the cursed chair into his chest, knocking him away.  
"Stay way from her! Stay away from my little girl!" Kate screamed. The split second Kate had turned her attention away from Philip to take on Charles gave Philip enough time to pull himself together. When Kate turned to bring the chair down upon him again, he grabbed the remaining front leg. Without thinking, Philip pushed against his mother with all his might, sending the old woman backwards. Kate tumbled, hitting the back of her head hard on the side of the bed before crashing down on the floor on her back. Charles had recovered, but had been unable to catch the Queen before she fell. Philip stared in shock at his mother, once so quite and weak, now lying bleeding on the floor after attacking him.  
"No. Oh God, please no..." Philip whispered, throwing the chair aside in his hurry to reach his mother's side. Philip fell to his knees beside his fallen mother, gently cradling her head in his lap, as a small child might have done with a broken toy or wounded pet. "Mother, please. I'm so sorry. Please, please don't leave me." Kate moaned, already beginning to slip into an unconsciousness she already knew she would never awaken from.  
"My baby... don't take my baby... please, please bring her to me...please bring... her..." With those final words, the once strong Queen Katherine of Mucche's old, wise eyes fluttered closed for a final time. Her chest rose one last time for a meek ragged breath, then she was gone.  
"No! Mother, no! Please don't leave me!" Philip cried. That child within him, which had never left him since the tragic lose of his twin sister, would die with his mother. He had no one now. And he had only one man which he could blame. Forcing back tears he knew were too childish for a grown man such as he to be shedding, Philip leaned down, kissing his mother's forehead in respect. "I will avenge her, Mother. I swear it," Philip vowed, before he laid her head down on the floor, unaware of the large pool of his mother's blood which had began to form around the bedside. Unaware of that same blood, now covering his royal garments. Standing up, he motioned for Charles and Nadine to take care of his mother, never saying a word. His face, once boyish, showing the signs of his immaturity, was twisted in pure angst. Pure angst at the one living man whom he could blame for his lose. Pure angst, focused solely on Brady Black. Philip would not mourn his mother's death. He had not truly mourned his father, and he would not mourn for his mother. Philip's only care now, was avenging the lose of his sister, and bringing honor back to his family name.

His sister, no matter where she was, would have peace once the Black family finally paid for their crimes against the Kiriakis family. If Philip could not get Chloe back, then he would honor her memory with the utmost revenge; he would rid the world of the last remaining Black. If only Philip knew... if only he knew what his mother had known, what his mother had tried to tell him. She had not been reaching out to just Chloe. She had wanted to reach out to Chloe, through Philip. If only Philip had seen what his mother had seen. Then he would have caught sight of a beautiful, raven haired young woman with the finest skin and most elegant grace, walking through a crowded Neroean marketplace, a tall blond haired young man with the most regal stance walking beside her. If only Katherine had been able to make Philip see, then maybe, just maybe... Katherine could have finally reached her long lost daughter. She could have finally unmasked her baby, and brought her home as who she really was; Chloe Kiriakis...

Arciana replaced the melon in her hand back onto the fruit stand, picking up what had to be her 20th try. Harold had mentioned before she left the palace that he was very picky with his food, especially when it came to fruit. It had taken her damn near 2 hours just to get barely half the things on Harold's list! But of course, she didn't mind. Shopping for Harold would give her something to do. And, once she got all of Harold's chores done, she could buy some fabric and start sewing a new dress. Moving her half full basket up her wrist to free her other hand, Arciana grabbed another melon, to compare the two.  
"Nice melons," came a masculine voice from behind. Arciana was caught off guard by the stranger, so off guard in fact she dropped both of the green melons. Whoever it was that had spoken was very quick. He caught both of them, quickly placing them back on the cart. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"Brandon!" Arciana breathed in surprise. "Brandon, what are you doing here?"

"What, no 'hello, so glad to see you again'? Geez Arci, these last few years have made you a hell of a lot more rude," Brandon joked. Arciana smiled despite herself, laying down her basket to give her old friend a hug.

"You haven't changed a bit, Brandon," Arciana murmured in reply. Brandon laughed slightly, hugging Arciana back tightly.

"I can say the same for you, Arciana... aside from the clothes that is," Brandon replied, pulling back to admire Arciana's new dress, picked out especially by Harold. He couldn't help but notice also the rare rose, once again pinned to Arciana's dress, and wonder just who had captured his old friend's broken heart. "You're looking good."  
"Yeah... well, it's amazing what clothing that isn't tattered and torn will do for a girl's figure," Arciana stated, only half joking. She did like looking in the mirror now, after all. Before, while with Paul... facing a mirror was more harsh then any beating. Unseen by either Brandon or Arciana, Cynthia had spotted them, and was lurking around the other side of the large fruit cart, keeping herself out of sight but still very much within ear shot. Cynthia had been taking to a rebel associate when she'd spotted Arciana with some muscular hunk. And of course, Cynthia couldn't pass up the opportunity to dig up a little dirt on Brady's new whore.

"No, I'm serious here. You do look amazing, Arciana," Brandon stated, causing her to somewhat blush. She'd long since become use to Brandon's affectionate manner. She'd rather be around someone affectionate the way Brandon was, then someone with Paul's sense of affection. "You look... almost royal even. Where does a former slave get such fine clothes? And this rose..." Brandon asked, pointing to the rare purple rose Arciana had retrieved from the bowl of water to wear again so that she could at least feel as though Brady was accompanying her to the Market Place. "You must have captured the heart of a very romantic rich guy. Not that that surprises me, given the fact that we are talking about the ever beautiful Arciana here." Cynthia leaned in a bit closer at the "former slave" part. So the new tramp Brady brought in was a Neroean slave?

"I haven't captured the heart of anyone Brandon," Arciana lied. "I did meet someone new, yes... but I'm not the kind of woman a guy falls in love with." Cynthia scoffed behind the orange crate. _ Get back to the slave part for Gods sake! I can't stand to listen to this bull for long. _ She thought to herself.

"Why do you always do that? You know you can't lie to me. I've known you since we were both kids. And don't give me any of that "No good guy can fall for me" stuff. Have you looked in a mirror lately? Your looks alone could attract every guy within a 100 mile radius." Brandon stated.

"Yeah, right. And pigs can fly," Arciana retorted, turning back to grab another melon without inspecting it to see if it met Harold's specifications.

"Yes, I am right." Brandon stated. "Look... I know it's none of my business. You're a free woman now, and if you want nothing more to do with me or my family because of what my father has done to you... then I understand. But you can't blame my curiosity. I never thought you'd come back to Nero after Paul died." Paul? As in Paul Mendez? Cynthia smiled evilly. Having heard all she needed, Cynthia quietly snuck away. She now had an old friend who she needed to talk to in the Neroean Jail...

"I didn't exactly come here by choice," Arciana murmured, ignoring Brandon and grabbing an apple that looked perfectly ripe.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Brandon asked curiously. Arciana sighed in frustration, turning back to face Brandon.

"I was living in Rubino, Brandon. I'm one of the captives that got taken from the marketplace in Rubino yesterday," Arciana answered. It took a moment for the knowledge to sink in, but finally he connected the dots, remembering the public announcement made that morning.

"Wait a minute. It was you King Brady was talking about this morning at the announcement?" Brandon asked.

"So you went to that..."

"Of course I did. My sister was one of those to get arrested after all. Besides, everyone in town went... but that doesn't answer my question."

"Alright already. Yes, Brandon, I am the woman Brady was talking about this morning. I'm the slave he bought at the auction last night. There, got enough info out of me now? Because you know I hate it when you play 20 questions," Arciana snapped.

"You're clothes aren't all that's changed... never remembered you having an attitude," Brandon stated, although not seriously. "So, have you fallen in love with him yet?" Arciana's hand paused in mid air, as she had been reaching for another apple.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, he is the King of Nero after all. And from a woman's perspective, he's got to be the most handsome eligible bachelor in all of Salem. Excluding yours truly of course." Arciana shook her head, turning back to the fruit.

"Brandon, it makes no difference if I did have feelings for him, which I don't." Arciana denied, picking up the last item she needed from the fruit cart and telling the cart tender to charge them to Harold. "Brady is a King, while I'm nothing more then a mere ex-slave. I won't even be staying here that long. I'll be leaving soon, so more likely then not, Brady and I will never see each other again. Now if you'll excuse me, I still have a lot more shopping to do," Arciana said, turning away from her old friend. She had thought a meeting with him would be more pleasant, more comfortable... but she had forgotten how easily Brandon could pry into ones personal life. He meant well with all his worrying and questioning, but it just wasn't what Arciana needed right now. Arciana had only gotten a few feet away before Brandon spoke again.

"He won't turn you away because of who your family is you know," Brandon called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. Arciana turned around to face him, standing in the middle of the crowded lane with a dumbfounded "what the hell?" look on her face. "Oh come on, do you really think I knew you all those years without knowing where you really came from? Father did always have a tendency to talk too much when he got drunk. I knew from the beginning who you really were."

"You...you knew? And you never said anything?"

"Of course I never said anything. If you wanted me to know... then you would have told me. So I just let it go. I didn't care where you came from, or who your family was. And I honestly believe that anyone who has the honor of getting to know you will automatically feel the same," Brandon said honestly. Again pushing her basket up her wrist to free her hands, Arciana walked forward, taking both of Brandon's hands into hers.  
"Look, Brandon... please, promise me you will never tell anyone what you know about me."  
"But..."

"Shhh. No buts Brandon. Regardless of what you may feel about me... others may not feel the same way. This is Nero, a place where my kind has never and will never be welcomed. They would especially not welcome me if they were to find out that I am not just from the land of their enemies, but I am from the very family that is responsible for this war. I don't want that Brandon. I don't want all these people to hate me based upon who my family is. So, you can not let anyone find out who I am. Please Brandon, promise me you won't tell anyone. It's hard enough knowing you and your mother and sister know. Please don't tell anyone else," Arciana pleaded. Brandon sighed, reluctantly nodding his head.

"Alright, I promise. I won't tell anyone." Arciana smiled, before the inevitable "but..." was spoken. "But... you know if you do stay much longer, the truth will surface, whether your ready for it too or not." Arciana lowered her head, knowing he was right. All the more reason she should have left this morning.  
"I know. That is why I must leave soon. But that's something I'll have to deal with. Just keep your promise, and never tell a soul who I really am, ok?"

"I said I would, and I always keep my promises."

"Thank you, Brandon. I really appreciate you not telling anyone. And honestly... I'm really touched you don't hate me, even though you know... who I am," Arciana said honestly. Brandon smiled, squeezing her hands in reassurance.

"Hey, you know me. I never judge people like that. You know you can always turn to me, for anything. We got a new place, at the base of a hillside on the outer rim of town, so it wouldn't bring back any... you know, unwanted memories to come visit. Mom would love to see you again. She always did like you. Sometimes, I think she liked you more then Nicole," Brandon stated jokingly, causing Arciana to smile as well.

"I'll think about it. It wouldn't be so bad coming by now that Nicole is in jail. Oh, not that I'm glad she's been arrested, I just meant..."

"Don't worry about it. I know you didn't mean it in a bad way. I don't want Nicole in jail, but neither mother nor I agreed with what she was doing with our other relatives. Maybe some time in jail will learn her a lesson. And you do more then think about coming by, alright? 'Cause if I tell mom your back, and you don't come by, she'll blame me. Probably stop talking to me for weeks," Brandon joked.

"Oh, well we wouldn't want that now would we? Alright then, if that's going to be the case... then I'll be sure to pay Faye a visit before I leave town."

"That a promise?"

"That's a promise," Arciana replied, releasing Brandon's hands. She was still a bit uneasy, knowing Brandon knew who she was. But she knew she could trust him. He was perhaps the only person she had ever really trusted as a child, aside from of course his mother. Arciana stepped forward, giving Brandon another hug. "It really is good seeing you again, Brandon. You and your mother are the only things about this place I missed."

"Likewise. I hope it won't be years before we see each other this time around."

"I promise, it won't." Arciana promised, stepping back again. "Ok, now I really do have to get going. I've been here over 2 hours and still have only gotten half the things on Harold's list."

"Harold? Don't tell me you have 2 men after your heart," Arciana laughed at this, shaking her head.

"Nope, can't say that I do. But I'm sure Harold would be very interested in you," Arciana replied. Brandon gave a strange look, not catching her meaning at first.

"Oh," Brandon said, her meaning finally dawning on him. "Oh. I see... well, remind me not to visit you at the palace then," Brandon said, only half joking. Arciana shook her head, laughing.

"Goodbye, Brandon." Arciana called, turning once again to walk down the pathway to the vegetable stand near by.

"Goodbye, Chloe..."

Brady breathed in the fresh, crisp afternoon Arcadian air. The scent, roses with just a hint of fresh apples, no doubt coming from Arcadia's own orchard, reminded him of Arciana. Of course, with the exception of the mornings meeting, everything had reminded him of Arciana since he left her side back in Nero. After lunch, Brady, Shawn, and Jason had each decided to go their separate ways and explore Arcadia. Only Jason had really spent much time there, so Shawn and Brady had wished to see the sights, while Jason spent some "quality time" with Princess Miriam. Shawn had headed for the docks. Just as his father before him, Shawn felt drawn to the water, and loved going out in a boat any time he was given the opportunity. Brady had decided to wander through the marketplace. He could do so with a little more freedom here in Arcadia, since the King of Nero would not be as recognizable.

Of course he hadn't planned on it, but upon arrival in the vast marketplace, Brady quickly started wandering "would Arciana like this?" about everything he came across. Brady didn't feel as if he had to get Arciana a gift or anything... but he did wish to surprise her with something that might be more meaningful to her then any kind of flashy, expensive gift. He'd wandered around all the jewelry shops, quickly dismissing them. Buying a woman expensive jewelry to impress them or get their "affections" in return was a trick he would leave to womanizers like King Philip. Arciana was the kind of woman who deserved a present from the heart, like the rose he'd given her earlier. It was a beautiful gift, but not one which demanded something in return. And the glass butterfly had been a gift from the heart, not a meaningless trinket. Why Brady felt so drawn to Arciana, and why he wished only to give her all the happiness he believed she deserved, even through the smallest actions, he did not know. That was what scared him the most about his feelings for Arciana; they came from no where.

After his precious sister Isabella was murdered, Brady locked himself away completely, unwilling to allow anyone close to him, least they abandon him as well. But within but an instant, Arciana, a young woman he really knew nothing about, had changed all of that. It scared him to think that he could fall so easily in love with a stranger, a stranger who could easily, and willingly, leave him. But this time... Brady would not run from it. After all, he had nothing left to lose, right? So, he would embrace these feelings he was having, pushing aside all fears. Brady truly wished to fill all the empty holes inside Arciana's heart, left by what had to have been a very unfulfilling childhood. Everything he did seemed to be for her. He wanted to be the thing she needed most in life; someone to treat her like a real person, and love and care for her for who she was. Brady only wished he knew more about her. Truthfully, he wanted to know everything about her. But he could be patient; he only prayed she did not leave before he got the chance to show her who much he cared.

Brady had wondered around the market for a half hour, passing over gifts like paints, quills, all types of drawing and writing utensils, as well as many musical items, such as sheet music. For some reason, those things felt as if they somewhat important to Arciana. But... he did not feel like paints, or music, were something she truly desired. After half an hour, he'd almost given up, decided that he was never meant to show Arciana what he felt, but simply tell her. Until he past a small toy shop he had not noticed before. There, sitting in a small wooden box tilted upwards to display its contents, was a purple, fuzzy teddy bear with a pink bow around it's neck and a small, pink rose embroidered on it's chest, over where ones heart would normally be. Teddy bears were not so popular in Nero. Most little girls preferred rag dolls or wooden animals. The few that were sold in Neroean shops were very plain, usually brown with rather course fur. Upon picking up the purple teddy, Brady found it's fur to be fuzzy and soft, the perfect present for any child. Brady smiled to himself when he saw it; he knew he'd found the perfect present for Arciana.

"I'll take it," Brady had said, paying the cart tender for the bear, and for the wooden box with it's matching lid to carry it with him back to Nero. Now, sitting on some crates on the edge of the dock, Brady had the bear out of it's box, twirling it in his hands. He didn't have to be told to know that Arciana had never been given a real childhood. Unfortunately, that loss was not something he could restore. But he could try to help fill that hole in her heart, even if it were just a simple childish gift. No matter how childish it was, Brady felt his gift could symbolize somewhat of a new beginning for Arciana. Hopefully, a new beginning... with him. But that, he would wait for; he would wait for her.

"Thinking about her again?" Shawn had come up beside Brady without being noticed, since Brady's mind was on Arciana, and how much he hoped his gift brought her joy.

"Shawn! I didn't see you there," Brady said, quickly putting the teddy bear away into it's wooden box. Of course, Shawn had already seen it. The sight brought both happiness, and sadness to him. Although he was worried whether Arciana would be what Brady needed, he was happy to see his friend finally open up his heart to someone again. But, such a thing, was also quite sad for him to see. A simple gift such as a teddy bear, or some other type of child's toy, would have been something Shawn would have given to his beloved Isabella as a surprise.

"I can only imagine why," Shawn said sarcastically, seating himself on a crate besides Brady.

"I thought we were suppose to meet at the palace in another half hour."

"We were, but Jason thought it would be best if we all head out now. He said we've spent far too much leisure time eating and "gawking about like simpleton tourists." Those are his words, not mine by the way," Shawn stated. Brady laughed, nodding his head.

"Sounds like a Jason comment to me, for sure. So, we're all ready to set out then?" Brady asked. Shawn nodded.

"Yes. Jason has already departed for Supervisore, and two separate carriages are waiting to take us back home to prepare for the attack," Shawn replied.

"Alright then, lets be off shall we?" Brady said, taking the wooden box up in his hands and preparing to stand. But Shawn reached out a hand, grabbing a hold of Brady before he could get up.

"Hey Brade?" Shawn started, using an old nickname no one had used since long before John died and Brady become King of Nero. "Don't let her hurt you, ok? I know what you feel for her, and you know we all hope and pray it works out for you two, but... just don't let her hurt you, alright? I can't stand to see you hurt again," Shawn said honestly. Brady knew that Shawn spoke from his own pain as well right now. Belle had been a great lose for the both of them. Brady merely nodded, not needing to say anything else. "Alright, well, why don't we get going now? The sooner we get back home, the better."

"Yeah, the sooner the better..." Brady returned, now greatly distracted as he and Shawn stood and began the trek back to the palace towards their awaiting transportation. What if Shawn were right? What if he should be more on guard with Arciana. Perhaps he did have something left to lose after all...


	6. Chapter 5 Part I

**Chapter 5-- Part I**

A/N I want to make a little side-note here. Chapter Five has been split into two separate parts. Why? Because Part I is only 2 scenes long and already 15+ pages typed! So, with Lib's advice, I'm stretching the chapter into 2 parts because I want it to be all one chapter without being way too long to read. Oh, and this chapter contains some characters I just made up for simplicity; its not important that you know who they are.

"...I still don't see what business you could have here with these mongrels, Lady Cynthia," stated the guard, Ioannis. Ioannis was the only guard left to tend the jail house at the time, since his father and brother had been called away to deal with a brawl in a bar on the outskirts of town. Cynthia had been all too pleased to find that Ioannis was the only one present. It was no secret that, though an honorable man, Ioannis could never resist a woman's charms. His father and brother, both married men, would have sent her away in an instant. But Ioannis was currently single and would be much easier to deal with. Cynthia batted her eye lashes seductively, tousling Ioannis' long blond hair.

"You just let me worry about that, alright Ioannis? I can handle myself just fine. And besides, you'll be here to protect me from them. You will protect me, won't you Ioannis?" Cynthia cooed seductively. Ioannis gulped; if his father found out he was letting someone in to see the prisoners... he didn't even want to think about that!

"You know I will, Lady Cynthia. Just you be careful in there, alright? There is nothing these people won't say or do to get out of here or bring you into their web. You have 10 minutes to do whatever it is you came here for," Ioannis stated, opening the heavy iron door which lead to the prisoners cells. Cynthia smiled, blowing Ioannis a kiss.

"Promise, no longer than 10 minutes. I owe you big time for this," Cynthia winked, before disappearing behind the opened door. Ioannis shook his head, closing the door behind her and reclaiming his seat at his father's desk.

"Some day, I'm going to get into serious trouble listening to these chicks," Ioannis muttered. Once inside the cell room, Cynthia's seductive smile faded. Rolling her eyes, she began to slink down the walkway to the end of the room. Men, so easy to manipulate. Especially men like Ioannis. Cynthia made her way to the end of the hall, where Joseph Mendez, brother to Paul Mendez Junior, was being held.

"I knew sooner or later you'd end up behind bars," Cynthia stated as she approached the cell. Joseph looked up at her, scowling.

"You're the only person here that really deserves to be behind bars, "Lady" Cynthia," Joseph seethed. Cynthia pouted, setting herself on a small wooden stool in front of Joseph's cell.

"Aw, now Joseph, is that any way to talk to your old friend Cynthia?"

"Yeah, sure, my "friend" Cynthia... wanna be a real friend? Get me the hell out of here!" Joseph boomed. Cynthia's fake pout turned into a devious smile at his words.

"You know, I might be able to arrange that," Cynthia stated. Joseph perked up a bit, until he remembered just who it was he was talking to.

"And just what do you want in exchange for that? 'Cause if it's money, you're hard out of luck. Those bastard guards of King Brady's took everything I had before throwing me and the boys in here," Joseph said. "Besides, you make more money in one night of whoring around then I do in an entire auction," Joseph scoffed. It was now Cynthia's turn to scowl.

"Very funny, Joseph. Let's not forget, YOU'RE the one behind bars now, and I'm the only person who can get you out," Cynthia warned, narrowing her eyes at him. Joseph threw up his arms in defeat. He hated the wench, but she was right. Cynthia was the only person who'd give any of the Mendez clan the time of day that had enough pull to get them out of jail.

"Alright, fine. What is it you want from me Cynthia?"

"Don't be so touchy. All I want is a little info, that's all."

"Information about what?" Joseph asked skeptically.

"A girl. You recently sold her at the latest auction. She was one of the captives from Rubino."

"There were a lot of female captives from Rubino," Joseph pointed out.

"Her name was Arciana. She might have been wearing this really skimpy gold outfit."

"Oh, I remember her. Raven haired girl, never spoke a word. Didn't even put up a fight as I recall. Didn't care to know her name though. Girl with a body like that, no one cares what name she goes by," Joseph stated.

"You must know something about her! I have reason to believe that she used to be your brother Paul's slave a long time ago."

"If you didn't already know, Cynthia, Paul was the family outcast. I haven't spoken to him since we were boys. I don't give a damn about his former slaves. Sorry Cynthia, but the only information I have on that girl is she's got a lot more going for her with that body than you do," Joseph scoffed.

"He can't tell you anything about that girl," called out a female voice from the cell behind where Cynthia was seated. "But I can." It was Nicole. Of course! She was Brandon's sister; if there was anything to be known about "Arciana" then she would be the one to talk to. "But first..."

"You know, there's always a "but first..." with you people," Cynthia scoffed, moving her seat to face Nicole.

"Hey, do you want to know about the girl or not?"

"Yes, I do. So spill."

"Alright, but first, you have to promise to get me out of here. I don't give a damn about the others, just get me the hell out of this rat hole," Nicole said.

"Gee, thanks. What a worthless piece of garbage you are Nicole. It's no wonder your father was cast out by the whole family. You're probably just like him, you little slut!" Joseph scowled.

"Hey! It's not my fault that you don't have the information the lady wants. You never did anything for me except get me thrown in jail you bastard!" Nicole spat back.

"Shut up, both of you! I don't mean to interrupt the family brawl, but I didn't come here to listen to you people bicker!" Cynthia hissed. "Now... Nicole... if I find your information satisfactory, then I give you my word I will have you out of here. But... if not, then you can get yourself out of this place."

"Oh, trust me... you're gonna just love what I have to tell you," Nicole stated with a coy smile, leaning back against her cell wall.

"Go on," Cynthia prompted.

"The girl, Arciana, this isn't the first time she's been sold in slave auctions in Nero. You were right. She was my father's slave. Since she was 8 years old actually."

"And you are certain it's the same girl?" Cynthia asked.

"My father only had one slave by the name you gave," Nicole stated. "It's not her real name. Brandon gave her the name of Arciana when she refused to tell us who she really was."

"Where did she come from back then?"

"Mucche," Nicole answered slyly. Cynthia grinned evilly.

"Are you serious? Oh this is perfect! King Brady's new little whore is a Mucchean!" Cynthia squealed.

"You think that's perfect? Wait till you hear the whole story."

"There's more? What could be better?" Cynthia inquired.

"Now, I wasn't suppose to know this of course, but dear old dad would talk incessantly when drunk, and I just happened to over-hear," Nicole started.

"Don't stall Nicole, spill! What could be better then her being Mucchean?"

"Arciana's not just any old Mucchean. She's Chloe Kiriakis, the long lost daughter of King Victor and his wife Kate," Nicole stated proudly. Cynthia's jaw nearly dropped in surprise. Oh, fate was so kind! This was just too good!

"Oh, this is too good. I always thought that old story was just a myth! Never did I once believe that the former goody-goody King John would actually steal two children from their homes and try to sell them into slavery!" Cynthia paused, her look of sheer joy fading slightly. "Wait... you're not just saying this so I'll get you out of here, are you? How can I trust that this Arciana chick is really the long lost Princess Chloe?"

"I guess you're just gonna have to take my word on it. Or, you could go through some of gramp's old records. Daddy dearest used to brag about having the pleasure of owning his father's most prized sale. Who wouldn't be proud of owning a Mucchean princess? If you don't believe me, sneak a peak at the records. They're under lock and key by now I'm sure, but you don't look like the kind of person who has trouble getting what she wants." Nicole stated.

"No, I don't want to bother with that. Ioannis was easy to deal with. My father would be the one in charge of those records now, and I'll be damned if I go to him about anything," Cynthia cursed. "Do you swear to me that what you say is true? Because if I get you out of this place and then I find out you're lying..."

"Trust me, will ya? If you approach this girl and tell her that you know, believe me, she'll cave. She knows damn well that once Kingy boy Brady finds out she's not only Mucchean, but the daughter of the man that murdered his family, she's as good as dead. Trust me, I wouldn't make this up. Something like this, is too far stretched for even me to come up with on my own," Nicole stated.

"I believe that," Cynthia murmured, already formulating a plan on how to use this information. If what Nicole said was true, then Cynthia would have no trouble bringing Brady down. There were so many worlds of damage she could do if this information was true.

"Don't forget, you damn well better deliver on your promise," Nicole warned.

"Don't worry, I don't welsh on my deals. You'll be out of here by sundown," Cynthia promised, standing up from the wooden stool just as the iron door opened.

"Lady Cynthia, you're time's up," Ioannis called.

"Thank you, Ioannis, I will be right out," Cynthia replied, turning back to Nicole. "Remember... if you're lying to me, rotting in a jail cell for the rest of your life will not be your worst problem," Cynthia hissed, before turning and departing the cell room. Ioannis shut the door again, about to sit down when Cynthia roughly captured his lips with hers, pressing her body against his.

"Whoa!" Ioannis breathed when Cynthia allowed him to come up for air.

"Ioannis, what is the meaning of this?" Uh oh... Daddy's back. Ioannis blanched, but Cynthia remained cool, turning to face Ioannis' father.

"Hello Mr. Hunter. I just stopped by to visit Ioannis here for a few minutes before I head home." Cynthia stated.

"I wasn't even aware you knew my boy was alive on this earth," Mr. Hunter spat. He loathed the girl with a passion. Unlike her father, who he respected as an honorable man, Cynthia stank of sex and trouble, and he frankly wanted nothing to do with the little whore.

"Let's just say, that I finally had an awakening," Cynthia replied, turning back to face Ioannis and giving him another quick kiss. She leaned up on her tip toes to whisper in his ear. "Remember, I owe you big time," Cynthia whispered, moving away with a wink. She turned around again to walk towards the door. "Bye Mr. Hunter," Cynthia called before disappearing out the door, leaving Ioannis to deal with the wrath of his angry old man. So much damage to cause, so little time...

Arciana breathed in the crisp, wonderful late afternoon air, setting her sewing aside. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, splashing the sky with vibrant shades of pink, red, and purple. There would still be at least a good half hour of the amazing light show before darkness finally set in. After standing completely still, usually with arms stretched out beside her, in a cluttered room in the palace for nearly an hour straight while Harold made measurements and had the palace seamstress begin on the first dress, Arciana couldn't get out of the palace fast enough. She'd taken her material and needle and thread out to the courtyard, making a place for her and her sewing at the bottom of the courtyard steps. Harold had seemed to be so impressed that Arciana was going to make her own dress. And not just a simple one, but something more complex, which would require more then needle and thread for even the well trained royal seamstresses. He had actually made her vow to teach him how to properly sew before she could so much as leave the room. Arciana shook her head, smiling to herself at the memory.

It wouldn't be so bad to be living here. Harold was perhaps the most humorous man Arciana had ever met. Everyone, with of course the exception of "Lady" Cynthia, in the palace was very polite and proper yet they were not stuck up nor were they inconsiderate. Yes, all of the council members were stubborn beasts, but she had her own tendencies to be stubborn, so she couldn't complain. And although she felt uncomfortable around them, the palace servants were very nice, complete opposite of her memories from the Mucchean Palace. The servants there, except for a handful which were very close to the family as their ancestors had been before them, were more stuck up and rude then most of the royals. Sure, they were polite to your face, promptly obeying orders. But when your back was turned... Arciana couldn't even remember how many times she'd heard the servants mutter curses under their breathe at her father and mother. Arciana could picture herself living here in Nero, in the palace. But she would chide herself each time the thought crossed her mind. Not so much because she knew she could never stay once Brady found out who she was, but more because she cursed her own treacherous mind for allowing herself to think about how lonely she felt without Brady at her side. It was not as if he could be with her 24 hours of the day. But what hurt more was believing he would not want to be around her at all should he find out her true identity. Brady seemed to enjoy being around Arciana, but Chloe Kiriakis, the daughter of the man who murdered his family? Never!

So when her mind would wander, whether it be to daydreams of living in the Neroean palace or merely images of Brady's perfect, handsome face and piercing blue eyes, Arciana would force herself to concentrate solely on her sewing. But always her mind would drift back to those eyes... Arciana was abruptly snapped back to reality by the sound of horse hooves fiercely beating down the grass, followed by a loud, protesting neigh as a large black horse was pulled to a stop just in front of her by his tall, blond owner. Arciana stared forward at the huge black horse's feet just in front of her, her gaze traveling up the massive creature's strong legs and upper body. Arciana's gaze followed the creature's eyes as it shook it's head as if in protest to such an abrupt stop, thick black mane flying everywhere in the cool wind which had picked up. Arciana looked slowly upward until her own eyes locked with the piercing blue eyes which had taunted her daydreams all evening.

"Brady!" Arciana breathed in surprise; she had not expected him to be back so early. He had after all said he might be gone a couple of days. Brady flashed that gorgeous, sexy half smile of his. Dearest God... sexy? She couldn't be thinking things like that! "You're back early. I thought you'd still be in negotiations with King Shawn and the others?"

"For once, we were all able to agree on an issue. That alone, whether we're victorious in battle or not, is enough to celebrate," Brady stated. And it was true; he had thought for sure at least one of the extremely stubborn kings would oppose to the plans, lengthening his stay in Arcadia. But still, he had arrived much earlier then would have otherwise been possible.

Upon making it to the Neroean border, Brady had noticed a stable on the side of the road, selling horses. The black horse he now mounted had been the last one not back in the barn for nightfall. The owner of the stable could never handle the "wild beast". The horse would buck wildly if you tried to come anywhere near it, even if your only intention was to feed him. According to the stable owner, Talon, he'd busted down the stable door at least 3 times. So Talon just left him unsaddled and let him roam as he pleased, so long as he didn't cause harm to any of the other horses or especially the buyers. But the wild horse had come right to Brady when he had the driver stop the coach so he could approach the fence. Before Talon could warn him not to, Brady had reached out to pet the horses long magnificent black mane. The horse had not only allowed this, but nuzzled it's nose, which had a solitaire white strip running down from the top of his head to the tip of his nose, at Brady's neck, as if Brady had been his owner since he was but a colt.

Talon, completely dumb-founded, had stupidly approached, as if to see if his one wild horse had suddenly become tame. The horse bucked away, knocking Talon to the ground. The creature had reared up on it's hind legs, and surely would have crushed poor Talon, had Brady not jumped over the fence and soothed the horse, allowing the frightened Talon to scramble away. In a fit of rage at the troublesome horse, Talon merely screamed "TAKE THAT HELLISH DEMON AWAY FROM ME!" before slamming the door to the stable, leaving Brady with his new horse. Brady grabbed a saddle which was sitting on the side of the fence closest to the stable, leaving a sack of coins to pay for both the saddle and the horse in it's place, and saddled up the black stallion. He'd told the driver to go on without him, before Brady mounted his new horse and sped off at full gallop for the palace, marveling at how fate seemed to have willed the horse to belong to him and only him. He was amazed at both the power which the magnificent horse possessed, and how willingly and easily the creature allowed Brady to control that. He hadn't yet figured out what name such a horse should be suited with, but he knew a name would surely come to him. Brady had taken the long way to the palace, so he could emerge from the gardens, almost as if he could sense Arciana was in the courtyard. His gift to her hung off the horse's saddle in a leather pouch, but riding through the countryside on his new horse had given him an idea. He had mentioned an even more beautiful place to Arciana when she'd commented on how amazing the gardens were; he would show her that place. "Climb on."

"What?" Arciana asked, having not quite understood him.

"Climb on. I want you to come with me somewhere."

"But Brady... shouldn't you be preparing..."

"That's what I have tomorrow for. Tonight all that I care about is you," Brady stated, causing Arciana to blush slightly, though she attempted to hide it. Brady held out his hand to her to help her up. "Climb on." Brady beckoned again. Arciana reached out, about to take his hand, but hesitated.

"Wait, my sewing. It'll get trampled out here."

"Bring it with you," Brady answered, gesturing for her to put the material back in the small leather bag she'd brought it out in. Arciana did just that, quickly stuffing the material, threaded needle and all, into the leather bag and handing it to Brady to place over the horses back in front of him. Brady reached out his hand to her again, and this time, Arciana took it, placing her foot in the stirrup to help hoist herself up on the black stallion behind Brady. "Hang on tight," Brady instructed, grabbing the reins again. He stealthily turned the black stallion around, to face the direction he'd just come from, before kicking the horses flanks with his heels to coax the animal forward. Arciana wrapped her arms tightly around Brady's waist in surprise, suddenly very afraid she'd fall off the back of the horse if she didn't. She'd never once in her whole life ridden on a real horse before; slow pony as a child, sure, but never a full-grown horse. Brady pushed the horse into a full gallop, completely confident that the magnificent creature would keep the precious cargo behind his master as safe from harm as Brady wished to keep her. Neither were aware of Harold watching from the courtyard steps, a big, satisfied grin on his face as the couple sped off. The horse needed no guidance as it easily dodged all the many trees and plants, never once trampling any of the beautiful garden's bushes and flowers as the creature made it's way to the high fence around the back of the garden. Arciana's eyes flew wide open as she realized Brady was not turning the horse away from the fence that surely was too high for them to jump.

"Brady, watch out!" Arciana yelled, but her cry was lost to the whipping wind as the black stallion leapt, jumping completely over the fence with room to spare, and landing perfectly on the other side, never letting his speed falter. After clearing the fence, and after the palace was out of sight, Brady pulled back on the reins, slowing the magnificent horse to a steady trot.

"You alright back there?" Brady asked over his shoulder. Arciana, still somewhat dazed, nodded slowly, not realizing she still had her arms wrapped very tightly around Brady's waist.

"I... that was... whoa..." Arciana muttered. Brady chuckled, patting the horses mane. He of course realized Arciana's arms were still around him, but there was no way he was complaining.

"You've never ridden on a horse before?" Brady asked, knowingly.

"No, never. Well, I rode on a pony once as a kid, but never an animal like this." Arciana answered.

"He's amazing, isn't he? I've never known a stallion to be so powerful and magnificent," Brady stated, pulling lightly on the reins to turn the horse left, onto a path leading into the southern woods.

"Where did you get him?" Arciana asked.

"On my way back from Arcadia, we passed a stable that was selling horses. This one was too wild for the owner, so he just told me to take him. Or rather, I should say he screamed for me to quote "TAKE THAT DEMON HORSE AWAY!". He's why I made it home so quickly; riding alone on horseback is much less time consuming then riding in that carriage," Brady answered.

"Wild?" Arciana asked, not hiding her fear.

"Don't worry Arciana, he won't hurt you. It's almost like... he was meant to be my horse. When I walked up to the fence, he just came right up to me. If I believed for even a moment he would cause you harm, I would send him away," Brady stated. Arciana was still skeptical, scooting up closer to Brady, laying her right ear against Brady's shoulder blade.

"What's his name?" Arciana asked. She couldn't help but feel completely comfortable with her arms around Brady, hands involuntarily creeping up from his firm stomach to his chiseled chest, despite her fear of the massive animal below them. And Brady too felt completely in heaven.

"Don't know yet. I haven't figured that part out yet," Brady answered. Arciana nodded, satisfied with his answer. She'd known many people with horses who remained unnamed until the perfect name came to them. And not just horse owners did that either. Brandon had had a cat when he was little that wasn't named until months after getting it. Brandon claimed the animal had finally told him what he wanted to be called. It was a silly concept to Arciana, having never owned any animals, but she supposed it was natural to pet owners.

"Ok, so here's one you can answer. Where are you taking me?" Arciana asked. Brady smiled slyly.

"Yes, that one I can answer. But I'm not going to. It's a surprise," Brady stated. Arciana huffed, shaking her head.

"Men. Always so complicated and secretive." Arciana mumbled.

"Hey! I resent that. I am not secretive, and if you ask me, you women are the more complicated sex."

"Of course you'd say that, you're a male," Arciana stated. Brady laughed, kicking his heels to coax the horse to go a little faster as they turned a corner in the path. The sun would soon be completely gone from the sky and night would fall. Brady wanted to get to his "secret place" before it got completely dark.

"Did I mention that most women also rarely ever wish to compromise?"

"I'm not most women," Arciana pointed out. Without thinking, Brady replied.

"No, you most certainly are not most women. You, are special." Brady stated. Arciana shifted uncomfortably at the statement, sitting up straight and loosening her grip on Brady's waist. Brady immediately missed her touch, cursing his fast tongue. _ Yeah, I'm special. Special as in I'm a lying, manipulative bitch. I shouldn't be here. I'm taking advantage of his kindness. He wouldn't want me here if he knew I was a Kiriakis. I can't keep doing this. The more time I spend with him, the more it's going to hurt him when he discovers who I really am. _ Arciana thought to herself. She was about to tell him to turn around and take her back to the castle when they entered a meadow full of luscious tall grass and yellow and white daisies. The dimming light made the scene look so amazing, the different colors of the setting sun radiating off the delicate flowers. The faint sound of water trickling over rocks in a stream ahead could be heard in the distance.

"Brady, is this..."

"Nope. This doesn't compare to what I'm going to show you. It's not far now," Brady stated. They continued forward, the sound of the stream becoming more apparent with each step of the horse. Up ahead, the ground began to slope down slightly, and all Arciana could see ahead was a seemingly endless line of tall bushes. Arciana was confused, as there was no visible passage through the tall bushes that even the amazing horse below them couldn't possibly jump, but figured that Brady's intention was to go around. But Brady never turned, he just keep going straight towards the prickly looking bushes.

"Brady, wait, there's no way thro..." Arciana stopped mid sentence as they approached the bush, only to find that there was in fact a passageway through the bushes.

"It's naturally positioned so that no matter what angle you're coming from, you can't tell there's an opening until you get really close," Brady explained. "I discovered the opening as a kid, but it was more grown over back then. Probably wouldn't have found it at all if I wasn't somewhat of a klutzy child," Brady laughed, remembering literally stumbling into the opening as a boy, no older then 10. He had been out playing with Isabella, but had lost track of where he was going and ended up in this place. At that time in his life, even though he was so young, Brady could not concentrate on much else besides _her_. Brady would have named the place which lay within the clearing after _her_, had it not been for Isabella. She had found him shortly after, and persuaded him to drop the subject of the little girl neither of them could have saved. Truth be told, Isabella had always felt the same kind of guilt Brady still experienced to this day, for it had been she who was unable to lead the slave girl to safety. Either way, Isabella was the only person who ever knew about the place besides Brady. They each took refugee in the place whenever they got the chance. Brady slowed the huge black stallion to a complete stop, before what lay behind the bushes came into sight. "Now the only question is... do you think you're special enough to see what's inside?" Brady asked jokingly.

"Hmm... well, you wouldn't have brought me this far if you didn't think I was, now would you, King Brady," Arciana returned in just the same manner. Outside, she was carefree and enjoying the slight teasing. But inside, Arciana was completely filled with curiosity and wonder. What could Brady Black have in store for her next? Brady smiled slightly, nodding his head.

"I suppose I must. Alright then, here we go. But first things first. This place... is my own personal secret get away. If news of its location gets out, I'll know who to come after," Brady joked, coaxing the horse to move forward. The stallion seemed to know the exact way as he carried the passengers at a slow trot through the bushes, which Arciana found to be amazingly thick. The first and only thing Arciana could see from behind Brady were 2 willow trees, which were uncommon in Nero, one on each side of the opening. She could see no more, since, number one, Brady was taller, and two, the ground would not become level until they were all the way inside the clearing. What Arciana saw when they finally did make it through the clearing took her breath away. The first thing one would notice upon entering the clearing would have to be the 2 story log-cabin which was in no way painted so that the wood would blend in perfectly with the natural surroundings. Next, one would notice the beautiful rose bushes that lined the front of the house. Each bush was a different color rose, just like in the palace, and yet the different colors matched so perfectly together with the log cabin as a background. The amazing front yard, complete with a variety of beautiful trees of all different sizes, colors, and types, was enhanced by the small stream, which Arciana found to run directly in front of the house, just 5 feet from the bushes. It seemed to almost circle the house, because it came from behind the right side of the house and looped back around the left side of the house. It reminded her of a moat around a castle, only its purpose was not for protection from outside invaders, but rather to create a serenity which would lure one in to the peacefulness the entire clearing possessed. A large wooden plank connecting the banks served as entrance to the house. When you come into the clearing, you can see that the tall bushes are not as endless as they appear from outside, but rather, they go out a ways, making room for spacious side yards, then naturally curve into the cliffside. The only opening was the one they came through, even though from this view point, Arciana could not see where the stream could possibly be feed or emptied out of the clearing.

The only sound that could be heard within the clearing were the horse's hooves clanking against the wooden plank as they crossed, and the crickets beginning to stir to start playing their nightly lullabies. Arciana had not even realized she was holding her breath. The place seemed like a fairy tale story, too perfect and serene to possibly be real. The last remnants of light shimmered off the flowery trees, which were in full bloom, and illuminated the log cabin perfectly, like it were some sort of heavenly body. Brady, aware of every move Arciana made in her reaction, slowed the horse to a stop once more, dismounting the horse and holding out his hand to Arciana.

"Come quickly. I want to show you the back yard before the sun completely sets. It will be perfect right about now," Brady stated. Without realization, Arciana took his hand and allowed him to help her dismount, leaving the stallion to graze freely. Brady was confident the horse would not wander off from the clearing without them. Brady led Arciana to the left side of the house, deciding that he would show her the inside after she was finished with the outside tour. Arciana was barely aware he was leading her around back. She was too busy admiring her surroundings. The stream never seemed to be more or less in distance from the house even as it curved around the side of the building towards the back. It remained exactly 10 feet from the house at all times. It was as if whoever built it built it to perfectly match the natural surrounding. As Brady led her around back, Arciana became vaguely aware of the sound of water running much faster, and seeming to hit the ground from a higher point.

Just as she was coming to this awareness, she and Brady rounded the corner to be met with an amazing waterfall. It was obviously the beginning of the stream which circled the house. The top of the waterfall was imbedded into the cliffside, not at the top but rather at a large hole in the rock, a little over 20 feet from the ground. The waterfall was small, but the sight of the crystal water, turned white in it's decent onto the rocks, coursing down boulder after boulder to make its way down to the calm stream below, was a wondrous sight to behold. The water at the base of the waterfall would have been just barely over Brady's head, though the rest of the stream leveled out to be only about four feet deep. Arciana see could the entire backyard from this viewpoint. She also now understood that the stream, fed by the waterfall on the left side of the cabin, made a course around the left side of the house, up to travel the length of the front, before it turned around the right side and returned back into the rocks of the cliffside via a small cave formation at just about the center of the house. It was like a natural fortress, or rather, it was like the cabin was Nero itself, as both lay within a fertile valley created by natural rivers and mountains.

"Do you see how the water comes out slightly from the side of the mountain? There's a narrow cave back behind it. It's not visible from the front, but if you approach it from the side, you can see it. It doesn't really go anywhere, it's just wide enough for one person to go through at once. All it does is goes off pointlessly to the left before curving back around to the right. But, if you walk all the way to the end, you come to the place where the water re-enters the rocks." Brady explained, still grasping the quiet Arciana's hand in his.

"How can a place like this be? Everything... its all formulated this way in nature! The only thing man made is the cabin. How can it be?" Arciana inquired.

"I do not know. But I am glad to have found it. Did I not tell you that an even more beautiful place existed?" And indeed, the royal gardens did not compare to this place. The valley was astonishing, not because it had been formulated by some meaningless royal gardeners just for looks, but because it was a gift from Mother Nature herself. Although some of the trees and plants Brady and Isabella planted themselves over the years, many were there already, placed perfectly as if just waiting for the house to be built around them.

"Doesn't it ever get flooded?" Arciana asked. Not even a place as perfect as this could avoid flooding! Even if it was a small stream. Brady shook his head.

"The cabin is built high. On the rare occasion that it does flood, it doesn't get very high up in the yard. Some of the flowers and roses are destroyed each year, but they always grow back just as they were before, with proper care," Brady answered. "It's amazing isn't it? I never believed I could experience the kind of peace I do when I'm here. Never felt so together, so..."

"Connected to how you're feeling deep inside?" Arciana answered. Brady nodded, looking away from her face to look out over the water. The sun was just about gone now, and with little light, the water was not so clear. But soon the moon would be reflecting the crystal clear water, making all the stones at the bottom of the stream visible once again.

"You feel it too." It was not a question, but a statement. He could tell by the look on her face that she felt the same kind of peace here that he did. Arciana nodded.

"Yes, I do. It's like, the moment you set foot into the clearing..."

"All your burdens are lifted, and all your sins washed away," Brady finished, almost reading her mind.

"Did you plant all these?"

"Some of the younger trees, yes. And Isabella and I planted most of the roses, but everything else was here before we found it," Brady answered. Isabella had in fact just finished planting the last rose bush in front of the house not a day before her death. She was the only one besides him that knew of the place. They never told their parents when they went out to play where they were going. After Brady reached the age of 13, he had less and less free time to spare to coming to the clearing to work on the building of the cabin and planting of the trees and flowers. He had more responsibilities then before, so usually Isabella visited the clearing alone to plant roses, or just to collect her thoughts and spare time just for herself. After Isabella died, Brady stopped coming to the clearing for the longest of time. Even this place, their place, felt lonely and empty without her. It was not as if he had time to visit anyway. But, one day, a year after Isabella was murdered, Brady had returned to the clearing to find that life was still flourishing. A few bushes and flowers had been destroyed in a small flood, but everything was almost exactly as he'd left it. So Brady came again and again, whenever he got a moment to himself, to finish work on the cabin. "Of course, we built the cabin too. But I did most of the work, although Isabella did help as much as she could. She didn't like being left out of things like that merely because she was a girl." Brady explained.

"May I see the inside?" Arciana asked curiously. Brady smiled broadly.

"Thought you'd never ask. Come on, this way." Brady again took hold of her hand, leading up to the right to a deck that stood closer to the center of the house. Brady led her up the deck steps to the cabin's back door, before opening it for her. It was much darker inside than out, as there were no candles lit and the sun had by now set.

"Brady, it's so dark. Do you have any candles..." Before she could finish her question, Brady had closed the door, and taken up 2 pieces of flint. With just 3 strikes, Brady had a wall candle on the left side of the door lit. But that was nothing amazing; what was amazing was, that almost the second the wall candle was lit, every other candle in the living room and dining room lit as well. "Oh! How did you..."

"It's an old trick my father taught me. Funny thing is, I could in no way explain to anyone how it works, I just know how to set it up to work," Brady answered. "The downside is, it only works in a small area, so for the other rooms, I just have to light candles by hand. Stay here. I'll give you the full tour, just wait until I have the house lit," Brady instructed, moving forward into the living room and disappearing down a hallway. Arciana obeyed, staying where she was. She looked around, noticing that the two lit rooms were very large, but sparsely furnished. She imagined that it hadn't been too awful long since the cabin itself had been completely finished, which would explain why little furniture would be present. The house smelled deliciously of pine because the logs which made up the walls were all pinewood trees. The floor was not carpeted, but the smooth wood flooring present gave even more of a rustic, country feel. Brady soon emerged from the hallway, but disappeared into another doorway, to the right of the front door before she could say a word.

"Brady?" Arciana called, just as he reemerged and began to climb up a staircase also on the right side of the house.

"Yes?" Brady called, continuing to make his way up the stairs.

"You built all this?"

"Yes, I've been working on it off and on since I was a boy. Most of the furniture that's here though, I bought. Not all the rooms are furnished yet, and the ones that are don't have a whole lot. Yet at least," Brady called, lighting the candles in the two rooms on the right and descending the stairs once more. He'd made his way to the left side, where another staircase stood before Arciana spoke again.

"Why did you build it? I mean, you do have an entire castle to live in," Arciana pointed out. Brady quickly lit all the candles in the rooms on the left and made his way back downstairs to stand at her side again before ever answering.

"Well, that's what I'm about to tell you. Come on inside, into the living room." Brady said, reaching out for her hand again and leading her into the living room. He did not, however, offer her a seat, since he would soon be taking her down the hallway. "You see, a long time ago, I had this dream. Well, it was more of a long-term fantasy of mine, of how I wanted my life to be. It was stupid, just a childish fantasy, but I suppose all children have dreams about their future."

"What was your dream?" Arciana asked. Of course all children had dreams. Had she not dreamt and fantasized a million different times that her life would take her far, far away from the horrid life she was living as a slave under Lord Paul? Brady hesitated, suddenly unsure he should continue. What would she think of him after he told her about the one dream that ever meant anything to him? It was childish of him to ever have believed it would one day come true. He shouldn't even be thinking of it now, let alone telling anyone about it! "Brady? Is something the matter?" God above, could she already see right through him, after knowing him such a short time?

"No, no. It's just... it's so stupid. You wouldn't be interested..." Arciana was very confused. Never once had Brady ever tried to push her away. It was she that was always pushing him away. It made no sense that he would shut down now, after all he'd shared with her already.

"Brady..." Arciana started, taking both of his hands in hers. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I want you to know... you can tell me anything." Brady couldn't help notice her own hesitation to say that to him. She always seemed hesitant to say and do anything that might indicate she wanted to get to know him better, or wanted him to get to know her. Brady smiled broadly at her; though she was hesitant, at least the fact that she did care was a good sign.

"Alright, I'll tell you. But if I bore you to sleep, it's not my fault." Brady stated, causing Arciana to smile as well.

"Like I said before, you are never in any way boring, Brady Black." Brady let go of one of her hands, leading her around the room in a circle as he began to talk.

"Well, you see... I had this dream, for a very long time, long before I can even remember. But it never seemed like it could ever become true, until I found this place," Brady started. "Most children would probably be relishing in being the son of a great King. But not me. I used to picture my entire life just perfectly in my head, and it went just like this. One day, a beautiful day which I would start by watching the sun rise, an old woman would approach the castle with a young boy, exactly the same age as me. That woman would let it be known that I was not the son of John and Isabella Black, but that I had been switched at birth with the boy she'd raised as her own. I know it seems a stretch, but though I loved my family, I could never be happy there. In my dream, my father would oppose at first, but then would finally be persuaded to take the young boy in as his real son, and give me to the old woman to raise. I knew of course my father would never abandon me unless the old woman had used some kind of witchcraft on my father, so I would run away from her the moment we got out of palace. All boys of such a young age believe that they need no one else to take care of them; I was the same. I believed that I could run away to my secret place, where no one would ever find me, and build a home for myself, and the family I wished to have one day." It was then that Brady paused, beginning to lead Arciana down the hallway, now lit by many candles.

"Even then, I knew how I wanted my home to look when it was finished, and knew exactly what each room would be used for. I would begin building on it, knowing that Isabella would still visit me to help even though I was not her true brother. Of course, back then, I believed that a house would be simple to build, and would not take long. I used to imagine, that once I had the house finished, I'd begin to farm. The land, both inside and around the clearing was so fertile, I believed that even I, someone who knew nothing about farming, could be the best farmer around. I wanted a simple life, nothing more. I had it planned, that I would farm the land, keeping some to eat, and selling the rest in the Market Place. Everything I made, I was going to keep back to buy supplies in winter, and new furniture and things of that nature. But I also had other reasons. You see, I really did have my entire life planned out, even my romantic life."

"During the first few years, I wanted to keep to my self. Never really getting close to anyone, just waiting for that one person that I would know in an instant was the one I wanted to share my life with. In my dream, I went so far as to picture how it would go exactly. One day, I would be taking my crops to the market to sell. Instead of going my usual way through the back alleys to get to the store I needed to get to, I would go right through the center of the market on my way to sell my crops. It would be there that I would meet her, the woman I was destined to be with all my life. I would just look up at the right moment and catch sight of her, standing in front of a food stand with her basket on her wrist. She would look up then at that moment as well. And the moment we locked eyes, we'd fall instantly in love. We'd know in an instant that we'd spent our whole lives looking for each other. I'd drop the wheel barrow I was using to push my crops and approach her. I'd reach out my hand to her, and she to me, and the moment our hands locked together, we both would finally feel complete." Brady explained, with a passion in his voice unlike anything Arciana had ever heard.

"We'd marry that spring, and move into this house. Our house. I had everything planned out just perfectly. I'd continue to farm the surrounding lands, and she would have a small seamstress shop in the market place. I even planned on how many children we would have," Brady stated, opening the last door on the left. "This would be our first born's room, a boy. He would stay in our room at first of course, until he was old enough to move into his room. We'd name him John, after the only father I'd ever known." All the while Brady was speaking, Arciana was observing the room. It wasn't furnished yet, except for a writing desk. She could also see that there was another door on the right side of the room that no doubt led to a bathroom. Brady left the door open, but turned around to face the left side of the hallway, where there were 3 doors. "After John, we would have twins, both girls," Brady explained, opening the last door on the right. "This would be one of their rooms. The other would be the first room on the right of the hall. They're connected by the room in the middle, a bathroom. Their names would be Isabella, after the only mother and sister I'd ever known, and Blossom."

"Why Blossom?" Arciana asked quietly. She was slowly taking in all his words; she ached inside at the thought that Brady had yet to find that perfect dream of his.

"It reminds me of someone I knew once," Brady answered, leading her back down the hall. He opened both the bathroom door and the other bedroom, the one he always imagined would be Isabella's room, for Arciana to look into. It was just as the last room had been; each bedroom only had a writing desk and a door which led to a bathroom, but the girls' rooms also had another door, which led to closets. "The other room on the left is just a study. Nothing in there at all. Really the only furnished rooms are the living room, dining room, guest bedroom, and my room. I've been too busy working on the plumbing... I honestly have no idea how those inventors of mine managed to fix up the entire castle with running water." Brady stated.

"What are the other rooms?" Arciana asked, taking a look inside the study. Indeed, it was completely bare. Still holding her hand, Brady lead Arciana across the living room to the door on the left side of the front door.

"This is the den," Brady explained, opening the door. Arciana found it to be the only carpeted room in the house, but also, it was the lowest room; there was a single, carpeted step at the entrance. "I want to build a fire place in here sometime, but I suppose that will wait. It never gets all that cold in Nero anyway," Brady stated, leaving the door open and crossing over to the center of the living room. Arciana followed, her eyes moving to the top floor on the left side as Brady pointed to it. "That up there, would have been the playroom, for when the kids get older. The room to the side is a guest bedroom, just in case." Brady stated. "Of course, you saw the dining room, which is connected to the kitchen. And that there is the guest bathroom." Brady said, pointing to a door near the end of the dining room, where it connected with the kitchen.

"Where's your room?" Arciana asked. Brady took her hand again, leading her up the stairs to the right of the door.

"Up here," Brady answered. The balcony they reached was bare, but Arciana could tell it was not where he meant his room to be. There were two doors, one to the left that led to a bathroom, and one right in front of them. Brady led her to that door, opening it to reveal his room. It was the biggest room in the house and fully furnished, and yet remained simple. There was a large bed in the center of the room against the right wall, in-between two windows. There was of course a writing desk and chair, another more comfortable looking leather chair near the window, and a vanity. Again Arciana's heart ached; Brady had placed it there for his dream woman who never came. There was a night stand by the head of the bed, on the far right side. There were also two doors, one near the front of the room on the left side and the other nearer to the middle of the room. Brady continued on, towards the farthest door, and opened it, to reveal a balcony she had not noticed from the outside. A white rail surrounded it, keeping any who wandered onto the balcony safe from falling off. Brady released her hand, and walked out to the edge of the balcony, leaning against the rail to look out at the stars. The moon was full that night, and not a cloud in the sky to disrupt the view. A wooden bench had been placed against the wall, just big enough for two people.

"We would have all grown old here together, continuing our simple life. I'd always pictured my children, raising their own families here, in the safety of their parents clearing. But..." Brady sadly looked down from the heavens to stare at the dark ground, his elbows on the railing and hands clasp out in front of him. "It was not meant to be," Brady finished. Arciana approached him slowly, laying a gentle hand on his back. Brady turned his head to look at her, and she could swear his eyes were gleaming, as if they were filled with tears he refused to shed.

"Brady... your dream can still come true. Just not exactly as you envisioned it," Arciana said softly. Brady shook his head, shaking off her gentle touch and standing straight, pushing back all the conflicted emotions he knew he was showing.

"Sometimes I really don't think so Arciana," Brady stated sadly, turning to make his way back into his room, and leaving Arciana out on the balcony alone. Brady sat on the edge of his bed, facing away from the balcony door. He closed his eyes, and pictured the raven haired beauty from his dreams. Yes, in his dreams, the woman he always imagined spending his life with was _her_, the little girl who he'd been unable to save so very long ago. Even before they had crossed paths, he sensed her. Long before they met so briefly, he wanted her. But she would not come. Nothing could change that now. She was long gone by now. All he had now was a meaningless vision. Sure, he had the house, but it meant nothing without someone to share it with. Arciana hesitated, before following Brady back inside, leaving the door open to let the cool night breeze in. Slowly, she sat down on the end of the bed behind him, reaching out to him.

"Brady, if there was anything I could do to..."

"Do you even care?" Brady interrupted, catching Arciana so off guard that she practically jerked her hand back.

"What?"

"I said, do you even care?" Brady repeated, turning his head to face her. He did not mean to turn so cold, but he couldn't help but wonder... why was she here with him? "Arciana, are you here, with me, because you care about me and want me to be happy. Or are you here because I saved you and you feel obligated to repay that favor before you get as far away from Nero as possible?" Arciana frowned and turned her back to him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be here," Arciana stated. But deep down, she understood why he had to question her. Somehow, someway, no matter how much she tried to conceal the real her, he always knew her. Knew what she was thinking, what she was feeling. She did want to be with Brady, that was the scary part. She never wanted to leave his side. It was like she was drawn to him, couldn't escape, and never, ever wanted to even if she could. But she couldn't stay. Brady might want her around now, might even learn to love Arciana, but... he would hate Chloe Kiriakis. "To be honest Brady, no one has ever, ever done anything like what you've done for me. But just because you are the first person who's ever in my life thought about me before themselves, does not mean I feel I owe you anything. I'm not here because I have to be. I'm here because I want to be." Brady felt much better to hear her say that, but was still somewhat skeptical. Although she made him want to break all the barriers he'd built around himself over the lonely years, he still felt he must be cautious. Perhaps even the King knew what all his subjects knew about him; and that was, that his gentle heart couldn't bare one more blow.

"Then why do you push me away?" Brady asked. Arciana whirled to face him again, both confused as hell, and somehow angry.

"I push you away? You're the one who's..."

"Yes, you push me away. In everything you do! One moment, you act as if you care, and then the next moment, you have me convinced that I mean so little to you that you could, and would, leave me behind at the drop of the hat and never once feel badly of it," Brady interrupted.

"I would never do that," Arciana said, her eyes turning cold. Yes, she could leave. Might still before he broke her heart once he found out who she really was. But she could never just move on like her time with him meant nothing. Like it or not, Brady meant too much to her to just forget about. If she left, she would regret it for the rest of her life. But now she was trapped, for if she didn't leave, she'd regret it even more. Arciana turned away again when her anger started to melt into sorrow. She was in a lose/lose situation. One way or another, they both would be hurt sooner or later now. She should have never accepted Brady's offer to stay in the palace... Brady reached forward slowly, laying a hand on Arciana's shoulder.

"I have but one more question, and then I will drop the subject if you choose. Can you stay here with me, and make me not afraid that you will abandon me, just like everyone else who's ever meant anything to me has done?" Brady asked softly. At that moment, Arciana felt as if her heart had shattered into a million pieces in her chest. Why couldn't she be the one to take all that pain and anguish away for him? Why, oh why, did he have to be a Black and she a Kiriakis? It wasn't fair! She desperately wanted to be there for him, but how could she? Even as a friend...

"You said you just wanted to be friends," Arciana pointed out quietly.

"And where in that question did I say any different?" Brady replied. Brady's hand moved slowly down her arm as he moved closer. Arciana shuddered at his touch, although he didn't seem to notice the involuntary movement. "Friends, true friends, are very important in any person's life, Arciana. I have so few that I know I can count on. I want you to be someone I can trust. And I want to be someone you feel you can trust, in any situation." Could he read so deeply into her? It was as if he knew she was hiding something. Something important. But he surely had no way of knowing just how big her secret really was.

"I do trust you, Brady. But there are some things... you do not know about me," Arciana said quietly.

"And those are things that I hope you are able to share with me in the future," Brady replied, now running his hand slowly up her bare arm. He'd give anything to hold her closer, to allow his lips to kiss her rather then merely grazing his fingers over her soft skin. But he could not. If he were to kiss her now, then he knew her reaction to it would be based solely upon what he'd just said to her. He didn't want her to be with him because she felt sorry for him, or because she felt indebted to him, or especially not because he was a King, and she an ex-slave. Even if all Brady ever became was Arciana's friend, he wanted that to be because she wanted him, the real Brady Black, to be her friend. Dropping his hand reluctantly from her arm, Brady changed the subject. "I plan to stay here tonight. It might be the last night in awhile I have time to come here. Will you be staying here as well, or would you like me to take you back to the palace first?"

"There's only the one bed," Arciana pointed out.

"Oh, yeah... well, if you want to stay here, then you can take the bed. I can sleep on the floor, or in that chair over there if you don't mind me being in the room." Brady said.

"The King of Nero, sleep on the floor of his own house? I don't think so," Arciana said jokingly. As Arciana could always seem to do, she had lifted the mood from somber and serious to a more comfortable, relaxed mood. "I do trust you enough to share a bed with you, you know. That is if you can keep your hands to yourself," Arciana stated, only half joking. She did feel comfortable enough to spend the night there with Brady. She trusted he would never do anything she didn't wish him to. But, she was afraid that it wouldn't take much to make her uncomfortable again. Memories of Lord Paul were still too fresh for her to be completely trusting of anyone.

"I don't mind sleeping on the floor, really. I haven't had this in here long. To be honest, I've never even slept in it. I got used to sleeping on the floor in the downstairs bedrooms. Really, I don't mind." Share a bed with Arciana? Even the most honorable man could take only so much temptation!

"I'm not letting you sleep on the floor while I take all of this bed, Brady. If you won't share with me, then you take the bed, and I'll sleep in the chair." Arciana said.

"Oh yeah, that'll look real good on my chivalry record. Alright, fine, we'll share. But only because you are too damn manipulative," Brady stated, causing Arciana to smile broadly.

"Good. Now... I suppose it's too much to hope for, but you wouldn't happen to have any clothes around here for me, would you? I don't want to sleep in this dress, and I'm not one to sleep au natural," Arciana stated.

"Uh... oh, I think some of Isabella's clothes are still in the bathroom, in a little cabinet by the door," Brady answered after a moments hesitation. Somehow thinking of Arciana "au natural" had managed to throw him off into la la land.

"Well, I never met your sister in person, but I don't think her clothes would fit me..."

"No, I mean... Belle, my sister, never got passed the whole dress up stage. She loved dressing up in all different clothes. She brought a lot of my mother's old clothes down here. I think they're still here, and they should fit you," Brady stated. Arciana nodded, excusing herself to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, since there were candles lit inside and she didn't need the light from the other rooms to see. She quickly found the cabinet, and indeed, there were many dresses and night gowns inside, all of which were close to her size. She picked out a deep purple one similar to the one Harold had put out for her last night, and stepped back to look in the mirror as she began to get ready for bed. Brady didn't take as long getting ready. Since he didn't want to wrinkle his shirt, figuring he'd have little time to change later on, and had no other clothes to change into, he just stood and removed his brown vest and white dress shirt, throwing them over the chair in front of the desk. He then removed his boots, scooting them under the desk. Brady shut the balcony door, opening one of the windows instead to bring in a cool breeze, before he came back to the bed, pulling back the covers. "What side of the bed do you want?" Brady called.

"I don't have a preference, Brady. Why? Do you?" Arciana called back, observing herself in the mirror after slipping the delicate nightgown over her form. The gown fit perfectly, accept that it was a little short. Isabella was probably shorter, because no respectable Queen would wear a night gown where it hung on Arciana, which was rather high on her thighs. But all the gowns there were around the same length, so it would have to do. Arciana felt... somehow strange, wearing an article of clothing that had belonged to Brady's mother. It felt... wrong for her to be wearing something of Isabella's. After all, if rumors were true, it was her father Victor who was responsible for Isabella's death, even if the poison had been meant for John. Arciana shook her head, picking up a brush that she'd found in the cabinet and running it through her hair.

"Well, I usually sleep on the left side," Brady answered.

"Then that's perfect, because I usually take the right," Arciana called.

"I thought you said you didn't have a preference?" Brady joked, pulling back the covers and moving over to his side of the bed. Arciana, leaving her dress securely hanging on the door where a hook had been placed conveniently for hanging clothes, left the bathroom and made her way back into the bedroom. She slowed in her tracks when she caught sight of Brady, who was still standing at his side of the bed. Brady stopped mid action as well, letting the pillow he had moved to pull back the covers fall back to the bed. She was stunning. No beyond that. She was gorgeous. Try as he might, he couldn't help but notice her amazingly long legs that seemed to go on for miles, or the way her hair was pulled over her shoulder, or how her amazing eyes were shining, the orange flame from the lit candles around the room giving a gorgeous gleam to her blue eyes. And he was as equally amazing to her. His muscled chest, those amazing, soul-searing eyes burning into her, muscular upper arms that she imagined, when wrapped around you, would make you feel safe from all harm. They both shook off the haze at the same time, Brady looking back down to the bed he was about to share for the night with a woman he was falling in love with, or perhaps already had, while trying to keep the... ahem... physical evidence of his sudden burning desire for her from being noticed. And Arciana just looking anywhere she could to not be looking at him.

"I don't have a preference, but I never said there wasn't a side I generally sleep on," Arciana replied, somehow remembering his statement before she entered the bedroom.

"Did you find a gown that would fit you?" Brady asked, though obviously she had.

"It's a little short," Arciana answered, hesitantly coming closer to the bed.

"So I see," Brady mumbled. "You must be taller then Mother was," Brady said, getting in bed and pulling the covers up on his side over him. He'd already blown out the candles on his side of the room. Arciana could get the others.

"You don't remember her?" Arciana asked, concerned, as she bent down to blow out the candles on the bedside table. The full moon was soon left the only thing to illuminate the room as Arciana crawled into bed beside Brady, who pulled the covers over her for her.

"No. I was too young when she... passed away," Brady answered. Arciana sighed sadly; it was because of her father that Brady was not allowed even a memory of his real mother. "The portraits... don't really give an image of height."

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to rely on paintings to know what your mother looked like," Arciana said softly, feeling tears well up in her eyes that she refused to allow to fall.

"No, I shouldn't... but that is the way fate has deemed it to be," Brady replied. "Do you... remember your mother and father?" Brady asked hesitantly.

"I... I do, but... I don't want to remember them," Arciana answered honestly. How could she not though? She was reminded of them every time she looked at Brady. They were the reason she, the real her, could never be a part of Brady's life.

"Why not? We're they... did they abuse you?" Brady asked.

"Brady I..."

"I know, you don't want to talk about it. That's alright, I understand." He did in a way, but on the other hand, he didn't. It hurt him to think of his lost family, let alone talk about them. And yet he did, because he wanted her to know him in a way he'd never allowed another to know him.

"It's not that I don't want to talk about them, it's just... there is nothing in my past worth bringing up, just when everything is going good. They're no longer in my life now. As far as I'm concerned, they're both dead, and there's nothing more to it," Arciana said. She didn't realize it, but she had begun to shake slightly, and it was not from the cool night breeze coming in through the window. Brady frowned, pulling his arm around her.

"You're shaking. I didn't upset you, did I?" Brady asked, although he was certain he had. Arciana shook her head no.

"No, you didn't."

"Are you cold then? I'll close the window if you'd prefer."

"No, no I'm fine, now," Arciana replied, snuggling closer to Brady and laying her head on his shoulder. Just as she had earlier imagined, having Brady's arms around her made her feel completely safe from harm. And although she chided herself for feeling that way, she allowed herself to feel safe in his arms, even if it could not last. Brady sighed with content, leaning down to kiss Arciana's forehead without thinking.

"As you said to me before, you can trust me, Arciana. There's nothing you can't tell me. Ill be here to listen, when you're ready to talk," Brady stated. Dear God how she wished she could believe that... "Goodnight, Arciana," Brady said softly, closing his eyes. Arciana too closed her eyes, completely at ease for once in what seemed ages.

"Goodnight, Brady." Arciana whispered. It wasn't long before Brady had drifted off into one of the most peaceful sleeps he could remember. But Arciana did not fall asleep. She lay awake for awhile, just listening to the sound of Brady breathing as he slept beside her. After awhile, she carefully moved her head down to lay on his chest, where she could listen to his heart beat. How wonderful it felt to be in his embrace like this. Her head would tell her it was wrong for her to experience such bliss with him, after what pain her family had caused. But her heart would forever deny that. She had nothing to do with what her father had done. Surely Brady would understand that? He'd said there was nothing she couldn't tell him. Aside from her initial reaction, which was based on shock, Arciana could not bring herself to blame Brady for the sins of his father. She and Brady were so alike, surely he would understand?

Arciana sighed, carefully untangling herself from Brady's embrace and easing up out of bed. She could not risk him finding out who she was. Arciana could stand him hating her for leaving him, but she couldn't bare the pain of him rejecting her over something out of her control. Arciana quietly walked to the desk, soundlessly opening it to reveal paper, ink, and quill. She took them out, moving over to the window. It had a large seal which was perfect for her to sit and draw by moonlight. More importantly, she also had a perfect view of Brady's peaceful form. Without Arciana by his side, Brady had turned in his sleep to face the window, the arm which had been wrapped around her still up slightly on the pillow on her side of the bed. The moonlight conformed to his face perfectly. It was a moment in her life Arciana wanted to captivate through art. She'd stay up half the night just drawing, but not because he looked so handsome, sleeping so soundly. Oh no, she wanted to remember the moment for all time, because she knew Brady was sleeping so peacefully, because he'd fallen asleep next to her...


	7. Chapter 5 Part II

**Chapter 5: Part II**

Philip watched with a blank, stoic expression as the casket which carried his mother's body was carried out into the courtyard on its way to the riverside. Funerals in Mucche were quick and simple, for commoners and royals alike. Usually, bodies were dealt with the day of passing. But Queen Katherine passed away late in the afternoon, and so her body had been kept within the castle over-night until morning. Commoners were buried in the local graveyard with little or no ceremony. The royal family, however, traditionally were taken to the riverside on the western border, where a funeral pyre would be waiting. The townspeople would attend, depending upon the popularity of the deceased. Many would undoubtedly attend Katherine's funeral, but none in attendance would truly mourn her. Respect was extremely hard to earn in Mucchean society, and being known as the mother of the biggest joke ever to be allowed the title of King of Mucche didn't really leave one with much chance of gaining a lot of respect. Philip had no intention of attending the funeral. To do so would be a pointless waste of time. A number of nameless peasants would show up, shed meaningless tears for a departed queen who none of them ever gave the time of day after Princess Chloe disappeared and Katherine showed she did have a heart. All the while, a traditional funeral dirge was sung by a village innocent who was probably too young to even know who Queen Katherine was. Philip wanted none of it. What care had he for such disgusting displays? Not a soul in the kingdom gave a damn about his mother. To them, she'd been dead for years.

"Aren't you going?" Jan asked quietly, coming up behind Philip on the courtyard steps. Perhaps not another soul on the face of the earth knew that Jan could have a compassionate side, when it was convenient for her. Don't get her wrong, she wasn't sad to see the old bag go. But, the look in Philip's eyes because of his mother's death was... disturbing to say the least. Such cold, ruthless emptiness should not be seen in the eyes of one with such power, and not a soul in the world was left who could possibly care for a creature such as him.

"What's the point?" Philip murmured in reply, turning away from Jan's touch. "Her body will be burnt to ashes, the ashes placed in a dreary tomb, and her memory forgotten the instant the tomb is shut, just as Father before her."

"Philip..." Jan started, but was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them. General Michael stood in the doorway, his helmet tucked under his right arm.

"Your Majesty, I have news from Eric," Michael announced.

"Leave us," Philip instructed of Jan.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Jan said, respectfully bowing and excusing herself. She walked out into the courtyard, exiting the castle grounds, mostly because Philip had actually been smart enough to think to dismiss her.

"What news do you bring, General?" Philip asked, brushing past Michael to walk back inside the castle.

"Eric has sent confirmation of the alliance. He sent a written message, but you needn't read it. The only important news to speak of is the confirmed alliance of Nero, Rubino, Supervisore, and Arcadia against you," Michael answered.

"We learned nothing else?" Philip asked harshly; and all his subjects thought him to be incompetent?

"I'm afraid not, sir. Samantha wasn't able to penetrate security in the castle. They may have anticipated us. Security was on high alert. All that's known is the official decree against us was signed without much debate by all of the Kings, including King David. They each went their separate ways early yesterday afternoon. Samantha followed King Jason, while Eric trailed King Shawn. No further report from either of them, and not a word from Roman and Abraham in Nero."

"Incompetent fools. I'm better off without them," Philip swore as he and Michael walked through the hallways, toward the main conference room.

"Sir, I think it best..."

"Prepare the men," Philip interrupted.

"Your Majesty?" Michael question. He was going to suggest they hang low for the time being until more was revealed. With all four kingdoms united against them, it didn't looking good for Mucche. Michael was beyond disappointed with his associates, and had every intention of scoping out the situation himself.

"Do you really take me for such a fool, Michael? I know what my subjects think of me. I may not be the brightest king Mucche has ever seen, but I am not blind. What other reason could King Brady have for wishing to unite the four kingdoms if not to strengthen his army for a full scale attack against us?"

"Your point is well taken, Your Majesty, and though I agree that an attack now is very likely, I think it will be wise to..."

"I'm not going to sit around like a fish out of water and just wait for them to attack the city, Michael. I want the entire fleet to be on high alert. You may use your own discretion, I trust your judgment. But I want every able-bodied man of age on alert. If the alliance doesn't make a move soon, or we do not learn any further information, then we will strike first. I'm tired of all this waiting. John Black caused my family great pain. It is time that my debt to my family be paid. John Black is not around any more, but now it is time that his son Brady pay for both his sins, and his fathers. And he will pay for those sins with his life," Philip vowed. "You have my orders. You are dismissed."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Michael bowed his head in respect, before replacing his helmet on his head and turning back the way they had come. Philip continued on toward the main conference room. He walked past the conference room, entering the door on the left. Inside was a simple study; rough, dark wood walls, an oak desk and chair, a small, uncomfortable looking sofa, no pictures or decor of any kind. Philip closed and locked the door behind him, before making his way to the desk. He sat down, opening the bottom drawer. There were many papers scattered inside. One in particular stood out, because of its yellowed state.

It was that paper that Philip choose. Handling the aged, delicate paper with more care then a mother handles a newborn child, Philip gently unfolded the paper, revealing a black ink drawing of his mother, as she was nearly 15 years ago. Chloe had drawn it on her 6th birthday. Very few things ever impressed their parents; Chloe's amazing talent for art at such a young age was one of the few. In fact, there was only one other thing that had ever caught their attention, and that had been Chloe's angelic singing. But even those achievements had been ignored, until she was already gone. Nothing about Philip had ever been recognized by his parents, except that he was nothing but a screw up. At times, Philip truly believed that his parents wished Chloe had been the one to escape from John Black rather then him, even though the son should have been favored over the daughter to rule. That made him curse his sister's memory at times, but it more made him curse himself for allowing such thoughts of his dear twin sister to cross his mind. In truth, he was not angry at his sister for being the only person to ever gain his parent's acceptance, even if it were only after she was gone. He was disgusted at himself for not being able to, no matter how hard he tried. And now, before it was ever even appreciated, the shining light that was his sister was gone, lost forever because of one man's need for vengeance. Philip rubbed his thumb tenderly over the tiny signature scrawled across the bottom right corner of the drawing.

"I will avenge you, Chloe. I swear it. If it's the last thing I do, I will avenge you... at Brady Black's expense..."

Arciana groaned in protest as the early morning sun bathed her form in light. She turned on her side away from the open window, pulling the covers over her head.

"Don't you even think about going back to sleep," came a male voice from the doorway, startling Arciana awake. She sat straight up, expecting some stranger to be in front of her. Instead, she was relieved to find that it was Brady, with a large tray in his hands. "I thought you were never going to wake up, so don't even dare attempt to go back to sleep."

"I'm a late sleeper..." Arciana mumbled. Now that she could be freely at least. With Paul, she was up before the crack of dawn. Being free now, she slept as late as she could when possible. It was a luxury she rather enjoyed.

"Wish I could sleep late... I'm the kind of person who has to be up at sunrise." Brady stated. "I rode up to town and got breakfast," Brady said, placing the tray in front of Arciana. Arciana smiled as she surveyed the assortment of fruits, grains, and breads.

"You didn't get breakfast, you got a meal to feed the whole army," Arciana joked. "Aren't you going to join me?"

"No, that's all for you. I ate already, before you got up." Brady answered.

"This is all for me? What do you think I am, a pig?" Arciana teased, in reference to the rather large amount of food Brady had provided. Brady laughed, shaking his head.

"Well, if your anything like Izzy was, you'll eat it all, and then complain for hours about how I shouldn't have ever allowed you to violate your "diet" because over-eating makes you fat," Brady returned. Brady's smile faded slightly as he picked up the small wooden box which he'd retrieved earlier from his still yet unnamed horse's saddle bag. "It is all for you. And, this as well," Brady said quietly, placing the wooden box on the side of Arciana's tray. He avoided her eyes, turning away towards the window for he was unable to watch as she opened his gift. Arciana hesitated, unsure of whether to open the box or not. He had already given her so much. It would be unfair for her to take anything else.

"Brady, I can't..."

"Please, take it. When I saw it, I knew it was for you. It was like with my mother's glass. It wishes to be with you," Brady stated. "Open it, please." Arciana again hesitated, but this time, she did pick up the box, slowly opening the lid. She gasped in surprise at what she found inside.

"Oh my..." Arciana breathed, lying the box lid down so she could gently remove the purple teddy bear with both hands.

"Is it that awful?" Brady asked, gazing out the open window at the gorgeous day which had dawned. Had he really believed she would care for such a childish gift?

"It's beautiful," Arciana exclaimed honestly, running the pad of her thumb along the embroidered rose. "It's like... it's like you knew... I've always wanted a teddy bear, just like this one. Of all the toys and trinkets I had as a young child, they were all meaningless to me. It may seem stupid, but... all I ever wanted was a toy like this. All the other children I saw had them. I wanted to feel normal, like I wasn't different from all the other children... something to make me fit in, feel like I belonged. But... my father, he wouldn't allow me to have any such toy. He said they were pointless, and far too childish and girly. He said the moment he handed me one, I wouldn't want it any more. But he was so wrong..." Arciana said. "Brady, this is wonderful. I can't even begin to... thank you. Thank you so much." Brady smiled as he turned from the window to face her, relief flooding over him to wash away the anxiety when he saw her awe-struck face. His gift had truly touched her heart, he could tell by the look on her face. Nothing meant more to him now than seeing her happy. He made his way back over to her, reaching out to gently caress her cheek.

"I'm just glad to see it makes you happy," Brady said in near whisper, unconsciously allowing his hand to linger a moment too long on Arciana's velvety skin. "You deserve all the happiness in the world."

"I am happy, now," Arciana replied softly. Brady lingered a moment longer, his eyes meeting Arciana's, before the moment became too awkward and he begrudgingly had to move away.

"I... um... your clothes are still in the bathroom. I didn't think you'd have time for a bath, if you wish me to accompany you back to the castle. We must leave soon. It's probably for the best. The stream's water is so cold, especially this time of year," Brady stated.

"It's cold year round?" Arciana asked, attempting to ease the sudden tension in the room. She lovingly held her new gift to her with one hand, picking up a ripe berry from her plate to eat. So many gifts and signs of affection from a man she hardly even knew. But not just mere possessions or items, not to either of them. Each token of affection, whether it be in the form of a simple gesture or a seemingly meaningless toy, meant so much more. What they meant exactly, Arciana was unsure of. But the feeling they gave her was enjoyable, comforting, none the less.

"Yes, it is. The waters spend most of their time underground or in the cold shade of the mountain rocks. The little time they see daylight is when they cycle around the meadow. I myself always found the temperature to be perfect... but Isabella always believed the water to be simply freezing. She wouldn't so much as set foot in it if she could help it. I remember once..." Brady started, pausing to smile at the memory as he cleared the remnants of his own breakfast from the desk. "Once, as children, I decided to pull a practical joke on her, and I pushed her in, fully-clothed. She threw such a fit over her ruined dress, and so-called cold, which I knew well enough she was faking, she didn't speak to me for weeks. It might have been much longer, if I hadn't finally given in and apologized. Of course, a simple "I'm sorry" wasn't nearly enough for Izzy."

"What did you have to do?" Arciana asked curiously, biting into a piece of toasted bread, smeared with delicious strawberry jam.

"I had to cook her favorite pastries because father refused to allow Cook to prepare them except on special occasions for a whole week. She even made me wear her mother's apron," Brady replied, grinning at the memory. He'd looked ridiculous, and Shawn had never let him live that one down, but it was a small price to pay to be in his sister's good graces again.

"Your mother cooked?" Arciana questioned. It was not customary, after all, for a Queen to cook her own family's meals.

"My step-mother did, yes. Isabella's mother came from a poor family. They were simple farmers before my father met their eldest daughter, Marlena. Much like my own mother, Marlena refused to be waited on just because of a mere title," Brady replied. Growing a bit uncomfortable discussing his dead relatives, Brady decided it best to change the subject. "I'm going to go downstairs, get the horse ready to go. Whatever you don't eat, you can just throw over the edge of the balcony. There are many birds and squirrels who would probably love to share your breakfast," Brady stated, heading for the door.

"That horse is going to need a name you know," Arciana pointed out.

"I'm working on it," Brady called over his shoulder as he exited the bedroom and began to descend the stairs. Finding a name for that horse would be nearly impossible. Only one name ever really meant anything to him... where could he find a name suitable for a male horse that meant 'to bloom'?...

A little over half an hour later, Brady and Chloe were well on their way back to the castle. They'd been riding along in comfortable silence, each content to take in the crisp, glorious morning which had dawned. A cool gentle breeze blew from the south, causing the surrounding trees and flowers to sway softly to the music of the many song birds, singing out the praises of another beautiful morning. The scenes around them were so peaceful, given the true turmoil the people of Nero were in because of the constant war. Mother Nature seemed not to care about the battles between the Black family and the Kiriakis family; life still continued on, so peacefully that it was as if they had left reality and stepped into a fairy tale world. With Arciana's arms wrapped comfortably around his waist from behind, Brady was in a blissful heaven. A blissful state, however, that was soon to be interrupted. Ever since they left, although she tried to focus solely on the beauty around her, Arciana had been thinking: thinking of how wonderful Brady was being to her, and how awful and unfair she was being for constantly lying to him. He'd done so much for her, not because he felt obligated or felt as if he had to, but because he wished to, to make her happy. And what had she done for him in return? It was true, she knew he expected nothing of her in return, but it was more of what she expected in return from herself. She'd done nothing for him, but she would do something; she would break his heart, whether or not she told him who she truly was. Arciana couldn't honestly stay with Brady any longer, not when he didn't know who she was. And she couldn't tell him who she was, or he would hate her. So either way, no matter what she did, she would be breaking his heart, whether she chose to just leave without notice or telling him her dark secret. It was either that, or live the rest of her life as a lie, and that wouldn't be fair to either of them. Arciana sighed deeply, before breaking the peaceful silence.

"Brady?"

"Yes, Arciana?" Brady replied, pulling the reins to nudge his horse onto the right forest path.

"I... I couldn't help but notice, you seemed a bit... uncomfortable before, talking about your step-mother and sister. Can I... can I ask why?" Arciana asked. It wasn't any of her business. She shouldn't be making everything worse for him. But she desired to know. She felt as if she didn't have much more time with Brady, and it pained her to think she would never truly get to know the one man who had ever been kind to her.

"You can ask me anything," Brady stated in reply, although he did not really wish to discuss it further. But for her... he would do anything. "I know I have been nothing but forth-coming when it came to stories of my family. I've probably told you more then you even care to know. But the truth is... even though the tales come so easily when I'm with you, I haven't spoken of my family to anyone, not even Harold, in a very long time. It's just been too uncomfortable, still to painful, to discuss them."

"But... if it's such an uncomfortable subject... why can you tell me all these things? I mean, I do wish to know. Unlike what you must think, none of your stories have bored me in the slightest. But... well, I mean... we did only just meet," Arciana said.

"I do not know why I can talk to you so easily. I've never been one to share how I feel, not even as a child. If you do not feel comfortable with me talking about them..."

"No, no, no, that's not what I meant," Arciana interrupted. Of course she would do something to mess everything up again! She could never say anything right; it had been a long time, assuming she ever had been able to, since she could easily express her feelings. No, she once had been able to; as a child, through her music. But that talent had been lost with the first strike from Lord Paul, and Arciana feared she would never regained her ability to truly speak her mind. "I just... I do want to know more about you, I truly do. I enjoy every one of your stories, and I'd love to hear more. I just... don't want you to feel uncomfortable, that's all."

"Well, I wouldn't tell you if it made me too uncomfortable to keep telling you about myself, now would I?" Brady asked. "There is only one thing that does bother me, however."

"What is that?" Arciana asked.

"Even through all I've shared with you... I still know nothing about you," Brady answered, hesitantly. He did not wish to push, but he could take only so much. He wanted to know everything there was to know about this girl, but he wanted her to want him to know. Brady felt Arciana tense slightly, and regretted ever mentioning it. But, she had been the one to ask him the first question... "I do not mean to sound demanding or pushy. I have never asked anything of you, and I do not intend to start now. But I... I would like to know more about you, Arciana. You say you wish to know more about me, for whatever reasons, but... how can you really know me if I don't know you?" What reasons could she have for wishing to get to know him? Brady could only pray that her statement meant that perhaps, she was falling for him, as he had already for her...

"Well... um... what... what would you want to know?" Arciana asked cautiously. She should not be doing this. She knew in her heart she wanted nothing more then to tell him everything, no matter what the consequences. But her heart had never held power over her mind. And her mind told her to stay away, get out while she still could. For the first time in so many long painful years, she trusted someone; but, did she really trust this man so much as to risk her own safety? He'd never harm her, she knew, or at least he would never harm Arciana Miller. Chloe Kiriakis was another story. And why, why did she trust him? Why did she feel so drawn to him that she would even contemplate letting down the walls she'd built around herself? She knew better from years of harsh experience. So why was Brady any different?

"Anything you would wish me to know," Brady answered, making another turn in the forest path which would lead them back to the front gates of the castle.

"Well, I wouldn't know what to tell you. There's not really much to know about me," Arciana stated. What a lie that was!

"I think there is," Brady stated.

"You'd be surprised... I don't have stories of my family as you do."

"Then do not tell me stories about your family. I wish only to know you, but I only want to know what you wish me to know." Brady said. If only it were true, if only you didn't care about my family... Arciana thought to herself.

"There's not a lot to tell. I was sold into slavery when I was 8 years old, and I've been with the same family, up until my owner died fighting in the war a year ago. After that, his widow and son granted me my freedom and I left for Rubino. There is very little to tell other then that," Arciana said. Brady hesitated, before asking his next question.

"If you don't mind me asking... who sold you into slavery? I mean... most slaves here in Nero, up until recently however, are captives from Mucche or imports from the distant lands. There are a few cases, however, where someone is sold by their own parents. It's a... very horrible thing to think of, but I've always thought slavery itself was a horrible issue. But I... I guess I am curious... as to how you came to be a slave? If you don't mind me asking. I do understand if you'd rather not talk of it," Brady stated. Arciana bit her lip, contemplating her answer. She couldn't very well lie; he deserved truthful answers for his questions. But the truth, just might not be the best idea either.

"I... I don't mind answering. I... wasn't sold into slavery by my own parents. They wouldn't have cared enough to bother. I was sold into slavery... by... your father," Arciana gushed out hesitantly. Brady's eyes went wide as he pulled the horse to a complete stop in his shock and turned his head to look back at her. Had he heard right? HIS father!

"My father! What do you mean, my father would never..." Brady hesitated as such realization hit him. Yes, his father would so do such a thing. As if still allowing the practice of slavery wasn't enough, he had once willingly sold someone into slavery. A mere innocent child no less. But that had only been once... hadn't it? He had had his reasons, however misguided, for that one instance. What possible reason could he have for selling Arciana into slavery? Had his father developed a separate life Brady never knew of? A life in which the once proud man would do anything to continuing funding his war for revenge? Brady shook his head sadly, resigned to what Arciana was saying was in fact true. And no wonder she didn't fully trust him...

"I am sorry," Brady started as he turned away to take up the reins and start his surprisingly patient horse back into a slow steady pace. "I did not mean to react so harshly. Up until now, I never wanted to believe anything so terrible of my father. After his death, I felt I owed it to him to believe he was just a good man who was defending his family and his country. But, I must face the truth now. My father would do a thing like willingly sell someone into slavery. He had done it once before, although I do not understand why he would cause you to be sold into slavery." Brady was rather suspicious of that one, but he didn't wish to pursue it. It was obvious he did not know his father John as well as he wish he did. He knew he had been a good man, but unfortunately, John Black let all his pain and anguish get the better of him. He became so corrupted that he stole two innocent children from their homes and tried to sell them into the tortures of slavery as vengeance against their father Victor. What was to say he did not attempt this more then once? "And, I am also sorry, for what you went through because of my father. I don't know the details, and I sense you don't want me to, but I do feel the need to apologize. Now, I understand why you were so reluctant to trust me, and why you still are. I understand your reactions to me now."

"Brady, I should never have treated you differently because of who your father is. I had no right to judge you because of the sins of your father," Arciana said honestly.

"Perhaps not, but that is human nature. I do not blame you for feeling as if I can not be trusted. I do not know what all you have gone through because of my father. I would like to say though... that, my father was a good man. He just... he let his pain take over, and he started committing the unthinkable. I would really like it if you believed, at least, that my father was once a good, honest man."

"I do, Brady. Despite my better judgment... I really do. An evil man... couldn't possibly raise such a noble, honest son," Arciana said honestly. "And, I really respect you for being able to see both the bad and good in your father. I know you really loved him and miss him very much." She was also relieved to have at least that little bit of information out in the open. Maybe she could tell him... no, she couldn't get ahead of herself. Honestly, Brady had made no connection. Perhaps he was too young, although she doubted that. He was older then her, plus the stories still spread like wildfire even to this day.

"No, it is I who have the utmost respect for you. To be able to forgive my father, at least enough to trust in me. After what was done to you... I'm honestly surprised you ever came back that night after you ran away," Brady stated, vividly remembering Arciana slapping him and running away when she discovered his true identity. The Palace was beginning to come into view by now, and, although very faintly, men fully clothed in battle armor could be seen exiting the castle and marching away to join the others waiting for their orders at the court square.

"What was done, was no fault of yours. I'll admit, at first, I could not see that. But now I do. Now I know what kind of man you are, and I'm very glad that I did not run away. I would not wish to miss all I've been through with you in these few short days," Arciana stated.

"I am glad you feel that way, Arciana. Along the years, I have been judged solely based on my family history. Whether that be good or bad, I don't want to be judged for who my family was, but who I am. I had hoped you would understand, and now I see you do," Brady said. Arciana sighed, allowing the tension to leave her mind. Yes, she understood, she could understand like no one else. But, would he understand her? Victor Kiriakis, unlike John Black, had never been a good man, nor had any of his ancestors before him. The Kiriakis name was looked on with disdain, as pure evil and hatred. She could never consider herself a Kiriakis, but she also couldn't deny her blood.

"I do understand, Brady. More then you know," Arciana replied, as they approached the castle gates. The few men still left milling out of the castle had caught sight of them, and now hails to their king could be heard clearly. Harold was one of those that still remained. He was first to approach, coming up to the horse's side as Brady slowed to a stop in front of the stairway.

"You do realize that it would be much more convenient if you would at least warn us when you're going to run off like that," Harold scolded. Brady grinned with pride, dismounting and holding out his hand to help Arciana down.

"But then it wouldn't be nearly as fun," Brady stated smugly. Arciana held back a grin as she dismounted with Brady's help, now holding a brown satchel which held her precious teddy bear as well as her unfinished dress. She would have to give the precious gift a place on her desk next to the pink glass figurine.

"Your Majesty, this is no laughing matter. We here were truly concerned. This is not the time to disappear for any length of time without notice. When your driver returned without you, the council assumed the worst!" Harold stated. Brady sighed, shaking his head.

"I know, Harold. I am sorry. I should have thought to inform you I would be staying out. I apologize," Brady said honestly.

"Well, I do know how impulsive you can be... especially when it concerns such lovely female company," Harold said, causing Arciana to blush slightly. "But do try to remember to at least send word. I realize you're a grown man, but not just any man, and this is not just any time."

"I'm aware of that Harold. I promise, it will not happen again. Now, if you please... will you take my horse to the stables? I will join you there in a moment for a briefing on the current status," Brady said, handing Harold the horse's reins. Harold nodded, promptly taking hold of the black stallion's reins.

"Another horse I see. You realize there are dozens of horses in the stables."

"This one's special. Thank you, Harold. I'll shall see you in a moment," Brady stated, attempting to hint to Harold to get going already. Brady wanted to speak to Arciana alone before he had to get to business. Harold picked up on the vibe, and was more then pleased to oblige.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Harold said, dismissing himself and leading the black stallion off. Brady turned to Arciana, gently taking her free hand to lead her from the noise of the soldiers bustling around. He led her to the left side of the stairs, reveling in the feeling of her hand in his.

"I would wish to speak more with you, if you will allow. Say, over dinner? Tonight?" Brady asked. Arciana smiled, nodding.

"I would like that," Arciana replied. He would be leaving in the morning, much to her displeasure. She did wish to spend as much time with him as possible, before fate split them apart. Brady smiled, bringing her hand up to brush his lips gently against the back of her hand.

"Then it is a date. I will meet you in the gardens, an hour before sun down. Does that sound alright?"

"Yes, that sounds perfect," Arciana replied. Brady reluctantly let her hand go, allowing her to return it to her side.

"I will see you then," Brady said. Before he could stop himself, Brady moved his hand to her chin, tipping her face up to meet his. Without realization of what the consequences of such an action might be, he brushed his lips to hers, gently kissing her silky lips. Much to his surprise, and hers as well, Arciana returned his kiss, with no complaint-- other then the fact the gentle gesture was far to short. After a moment of looking into her eyes, hoping to read her reaction, Brady smiled, before he nervously stepped back. "Until tonight," Brady said, barely above a loud whisper. He then quickly departed, before he could lose his nerve. He couldn't read Arciana's reaction. Frankly he didn't know how he himself was reacting. But that could be discussed that evening, when it was just the two of them. Arciana, almost too stunned for movement, slowly brought her fingers up to her lips, savoring his sweet, short kiss.

"Until tonight..." Arciana repeated slowly, a smile spreading across her lips.

"Awww... how sweet," Cynthia mock-cooed from behind, startling Arciana. She turned to face Cynthia, who was standing there with a sly look on her face. "I hope you enjoy it... while it lasts."

"Lady Cynthia, I do not know what you are talking about."

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Arciana. Or should I say... Chloe?" Cynthia asked slyly. Arciana's eyes went wide with fear, dropping the leather satchel in her hands. No! She couldn't possibly know the truth!

"Wha... what did you call me?"

"You heard me. I know the truth about you, my dear. And what a satisfying truth it is," Cynthia stated, thoroughly enjoying taking in the panic radiating from the woman before her. Ah, reeking havoc was so much fun! "I know all about you. What your real name is, who you are... who your family is. I know everything." Chloe stepped forward, firmly grasping Cynthia's upper arm.

"You can't tell anyone," Chloe hissed urgently. Cynthia pushed her hand away, sneering at Chloe for daring to threaten her.

"You are in no position to make demands, Chloe. I'm the one who holds the power here, not you."

"Why? Why would you even care who I am? What business is it of yours. I've never done anything to you."

"Why? Oh, lets see... you barge in here playing little Miss Innocent. You get King Brady to completely ban slavery from Nero. You talk down to me and insult me... and if that's not enough, you're knowingly mooching off our poor, heart broken king, knowing that if he knew the truth he'd toss you out on your ass in the gutter where you belong."

"You don't give a damn about Brady, you selfish bitch. All you care about is yourself," Chloe hissed. Cynthia grinned deviously.

"Ah you know me so well. You're right, I don't care. All I care about... is that you got in my way. And now, you're going down. Don't think for even a moment that you will actually be allowed to stay here once Brady finds out the truth. You'll be lucky if you make it out alive. And I'm just the person to tell Brady of this sinful crime being committed," Cynthia said smugly.

"He'd never believe you," Chloe stated.

"Oh, I'm sure you're right. Brady wouldn't believe me. But... I'm sure he'd believe the entire Mucchean Army, which will no doubt be pounding down his door once your dear brother King Philip finds out his long lost sister is here with the very Black who killed Victor," Cynthia threatened. "Enjoy what little time you have my dear, because I swear if it's the last thing I do... by the time I get through with you, Brady Black will want nothing to do with you. If you'll excuse me now, I do have a coach to catch." Cynthia stated proudly, turning on her heel. Chloe reached out, desperately grabbing Cynthia by the arm.

"No, wait! You can't!"

"Uh uh uh. Get your hands off me, Chloe. We wouldn't want all the people around to get any of the wrong ideas. All soldiers, Chloe. Soldiers loyal only to Nero and their King. If I were you, I'd get your dirty little Mucchean hands off me before I call out for help," Cynthia warned. Chloe narrowed her eyes at Cynthia, wishing only to choke the life out of the little snake. But, Cynthia was right... though no one was looking at the moment, Cynthia could easily cry out and have at least 10 armed men surround her. Chloe harshly pushed Cynthia's arm away.

"You won't get away with this," Chloe vowed. Cynthia grinned evilly.

"Why my dear Chloe, I already have," Cynthia stated. With that she was gone, and there was nothing Chloe could do about it. Cynthia was obviously a very devious woman. She wouldn't give Chloe any opportunity to pursue her. And that was true, as one of Cynthia's male associates had been waiting anxiously just outside the castle grounds to escort her away. Chloe fought back tears as she turned around to pick up her brown leather satchel. She turned to walk into the castle, but didn't make it past the third step before collapsing into tears, dropping down to sit on the steps below her and uncaring of the others around her, who had, despite their orders to begin evacuating to their check point, turned to watch the scene.

Chloe buried her face in her hands, dropping the satchel into her lap. The satchel, which held a gift that would now become meaningless to Brady, all because of some selfish deceitful little manipulator. Chloe no longer fought the tears as she contemplated all that would happen to her now. Everything she was starting to feel, every safe feeling, would vanish once Brady discovered the truth. All the feelings he might be starting to have for her would be shattered, and be as if they never were, leaving only disgust. Whatever future she thought she might have with Brady, now would never be. Cynthia was not bluffing, Chloe knew. She would travel to Mucche, and alert her brother Philip. Brady would never believe Cynthia, but no doubt Philip would. Any excuse to feel even more hatred for the Blacks would no doubt be accepted. And his army would come, storm the country... no matter what the outcome, Brady would find out why Philip had come. No matter what she did now, Chloe was doomed. She sat sobbing on the steps for another few moments longer, until everyone had finally left, before she forced herself to stand. She wiped her red eyes, mustering up the strength to smooth out her dress and pick up her bag. Well, if she was going down... it would be on her terms. She could no longer avoid the truth, so she would face it, her way. Chloe was not about to allow Brady to find out who she truly was from Philip, or Cynthia for that matter. Now she had no choice... tonight, she would tell Brady her true identity, Chloe Kiriakis... no matter what the consequences...


	8. Chapter 6 Part I

**Chapter Six Part I**

Quick A/N. Again, I decided that this chapter was too long so it had to be split into two separate part. I must warn you, the following scenes get a bit intimate. Nothing NC-17ish, mind you. This is pretty much nothing you wouldn't see on Days itself. But still, if this kind of thing bothers you, I advice you to skip the first scene. Although it is important to the plot, you won't be left in the dark without reading it all the way through.

Chloe paced nervously around her bedroom, involuntarily chewing on her nails. Occasionally, she'd glance at her vanity where she'd delicately laid her glass statuette and teddy bear to display, thinking that within moments her beloved gifts would no longer mean anything to Brady. Chloe had been a nervous wreck all day, praying for the strength she'd need to confront Brady. She'd tried going about as normal, despite all the conflicting circumstances. But she couldn't go long before she'd break out into tears again. She just couldn't get over how earth-shattering the morning had been. Fate had finally been kind to her, given her the chance she'd always longed for to find happiness, only to rip her dreams from her again in the blink of an eye. She'd thought nothing could devastate her more then everything else she'd been through, but this...

So, unable to handle the possibility of breaking down with so many strange people around, Chloe made a quick retreat to her solitude of her room. Harold had stopped by a few times, when he could manage, each time trying desperately to get her to come out and eat something. But he failed miserably each attempt. She couldn't possibly eat, not when her stomach had been doing constant flip flops ever since her confrontation with Cynthia. Chloe had practiced what she was going to say to Brady a million times in the past few hours, each time scratching her speech entirely. Nothing came out right. She only managed to sound like a complete fool each time. It was now growing close to time to meet Brady in the gardens, and soon she'd have to confront him. Chloe had just seen him finally pull away from his council's constant complaints and bickering to retreat to his chambers, no doubt to prepare for their dinner date. She'd already decided to confront Brady in his room, rather then meeting him later in the gardens as planned. Part of her reasoning had been the fact that fewer people could interrupt them. The gardens might not necessarily be filled with people, but there were many soldiers and council members still milling about. No one would approach the royal chambers, unless there was an emergency, in which case Chloe would rather Brady be easy to locate.

Secondly, the garden was a sacred place for Brady and his departed sister Isabella. Chloe didn't want to taint those memories any more then she already had. Chloe halted her pacing in front of her vanity to inspect her appearance in the mirror. She'd changed into a light blue evening gown, at Harold's insistence, even though she believed it was pointless to change. Chances were, she'd be thrown out of the castle before night fall anyway. The gown was a simple off the shoulder dress with a matching blue corset underneath, with no major decorations of any kind. She'd left her hair down. Checking her reflection, Chloe suddenly wished she had something to conceal the slight redness and puffiness around her eyes which had resulted from hours of crying. She could only hope Brady didn't notice, although she highly doubted he'd care soon. Chloe sighed heavily, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. Dread filled her more with each passing moment, but if she waited any longer, she wouldn't catch Brady before he left for the gardens.

"It's now or never, Chloe..." Chloe said aloud to her reflection. She paused a moment longer, shocked she had spoken her true name aloud, the first time in what seemed ages. It was one thing to hear it from the lips of another. Hearing herself utter the cursed name seemed utterly unreal. Chloe shook her head sadly, glancing once more at her reflection before heading for the door. No matter how she denied it, the truth had finally slapped her in the face. She was Chloe Kiriakis, as Cynthia had proved, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to change that. All she could do now was confess. Chloe approached the door to Brady's chambers slowly, looking at the dreaded door as if it were a snake about to strike. Hesitantly, she drew her fist up to knock, but quickly pulled back. Could she really do this? Maybe if she just left... it might hurt Brady less. She couldn't just let Philip attack Nero, however. But, maybe if she left now and went straight to Philip, she could convince him to leave Brady alone. It would destroy her freedom from the Kiriakis name, but if it would spare Brady more pain...

Chloe shook off the thought. For one thing, Philip might not believe her; after all, he probably wouldn't recognize her after all this time. The only reason he would probably believe Cynthia would be just to have another excuse to hate the Black family. And even if Philip did believe her, there was no way he'd let her leave. He'd keep her there with him, and then news would spread of her return. Either way, Brady would find out who she was. Better he find out from her then idle gossip. With new resolve, Chloe reached up, tapping firmly on the door.

"Come in," Brady called from inside as he buttoned his white dress shirt. He assumed it would be Harold, there to voice more of his many concerns and ramble about how much was still left to arrange. But Brady didn't mind. Harold was just looking out for him, as he always had. Not because of loyalty to the kingdom, but loyalty to friendship. Harold had still been thrilled to hear that Brady was having dinner with Arciana. He'd even joked that perhaps he could take over so Brady could get a nap in before 'the big date' and how maybe he wouldn't have to keep trying to set him up with stuck up or otherwise claimed Princesses from other countries. Chloe pushed the door open, slowly peeking her head inside. "Arciana! What a surprise. I was just about to meet you in the garden," Brady smiled widely to see her standing in the doorway. She looked breath-taking in the simple gown, her beautiful, soft hair left down on her shoulders. He couldn't help but notice, however, that her eyes seemed to be somewhat red. Chloe immediately blanched upon seeing him, regret and guilt over-taking her. He looked so happy to see her! Though it was not yet sunset, candles were lit around the room, and the vibe they set was just so jovial, so cheery. Could she really be about to destroy that happiness? Brady's smile faded when he saw how upset she appeared. Had she been crying? "Arciana..."

"Brady, we need to talk," Chloe interrupted firmly, stepping in and closing the door behind her. Brady frowned, dread filling him as he turned away, hoping to hid his disappointment. Had he pushed too far? Had she finally come to tell him she would be leaving? Brady was floored at the thought. After their kiss that morning, Brady had thought maybe... but, truth was, he still had to live in constant fear of her up and leaving. That thought was just more then he could take right now. Brady pushed his regrets aside, his handsome face twisting into the cold, emotionless glare he'd become accustomed to hiding behind for so many years.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm afraid it will have to wait. I've decided that I simply cannot retire from my royal duties just to take you to dinner. There is a war to prepare for, and I've been treating it as if it were nothing at all. I have begun to forget that I have immense responsibilities that I can never ignore," Brady stated, refusing to turn around and face her. He was doing what was best. Though it pained him to do so, he had to shut her out, before she could shatter what was left of him. Perhaps it would hurt less, for both of them, if he simply avoided her until morning, when he would leave. Perhaps it wouldn't pain him so much if he returned to find her gone, assuming he ever did return home at all. "I'm sorry if it causes you any inconvenience, but I'm afraid I have to cancel our..."

"Brady, why are you doing this?" Chloe asked quietly, hesitantly stepping forward. She had never seen him turn so cold so fast; it frightened her to see him turn away from her, even before she could tell him the truth that would force him to hate her.

"I'm not doing anything, Arciana. Like I said, I'm very sorry that I didn't make it clear that I am a very responsible man, and it's my responsibility to..."

"Stop giving me this responsibility crap, Brady. I realize you have certain duties. As King, you have more then anyone else could ever dream of. But that's not the real issue here. Responsibility doesn't mean you have to push me away," Chloe stated. " I know all these preparations going on are not the reason why you're canceling our dinner date. I'm not that stupid, Brady. You were happy to see me. You hadn't made any kind of decision to cancel until I said we needed to talk, seriously. So, why? Why are you pushing me away now?" Chloe repeated.

"Why else?" Brady replied coldly, finally turning around, though he almost wished he hadn't. To see her devastation, confusion, would make him crumble. But he couldn't back down. There was still a part of him left that had not been destroyed by a life-time of cruel heart aches. He couldn't possibly let some simple girl he'd only just met days before ruin all he had worked to hold onto. But, somehow, he still knew that this girl was far from simple. "You're leaving, aren't you? That is what you came to tell me, that you would be leaving the castle... leaving me." Chloe searched his face, trying to read his words through his eyes. But, she found nothing. At least not right away. He'd learned to hide his true self well.

"You speak as if that has already been decided, as if you want me to leave," Chloe said, more to get his attention then anything. Even if he was trying to turn away from her, she wouldn't truly believe that of him. Brady's eyes widened in disbelief. Did she know him so little?

"What! Of course I don't want you to go! That is the last thing on this earth that I would want," Brady proclaimed. He softened slightly, involuntarily stepping forward to close the gap between them. They now stood within touching distance of each other. "How could you possibly think that I would want you to leave?"

"You tell me, Brady. I just get this feeling like you expect me to just up and leave," Chloe replied. Her resolve to confess all was waning with each passing moment; the closeness to him was becoming over-whelming.

"Can you blame me, Arciana? I have only just met you after all. I'm... I'm not used to feeling this way about anyone, least of all someone I've only just met," Brady stated softly. Chloe shivered inwardly with excitement as Brady brought his hand up, brushing his fingers lightly along her jaw bone.

"How do you feel about me, Brady?" Chloe asked, barely above a whisper. Her gaze drifted from Brady's hand, until their eyes locked. Gone was the cold, emotionless front Brady had tried to uphold since her upsetting announcement this evening. What was there now, was pure passion. A passion Brady had long since believed to be dead within him, a passion which mirrored that in Chloe's eyes.

"I'm not sure there is a word to describe what you make me feel," Brady replied, the pad of his thumb making seductive trails over Chloe's luscious bottom lip, teasingly close, but yet not quite touching. He leaned in ever so slightly, causing her to subconsciously wet her lips. "And, how about you, Arciana? What exactly do you feel for me?" Brady asked. Slowly, he reached his other hand up to cradle Chloe's face, gently tipping her lips up to met his in perhaps the most sensuous kiss of their lives. The kiss was soft and timid at first, each adjusting to the new sensations. Brady's right hand remained on Chloe's neck. But as the kiss deepened, his left hand began to slowly trail down her bare arm, his fingers grazing seductively over her flesh, before making it's way to Chloe's semi-bare back, where he entwined his finger in her luscious long dark hair. Brady's lips left Chloe's as he began to lay a trail of slow, passionate kisses down her jawbone, creeping ever closer to the sensitive skin of her neck. Chloe's legs were like jelly, her arms limp as wet straw; she felt she was flying. She couldn't possibly utter a word, or even a sound, except for a soft, barely audible moan as Brady's hot breathe blew on her ear. Slowly, Chloe brought a hand up to place behind Brady's head, running her fingers through his hair. She leaned her head back in ecstasy as Brady moved downward, planting hot kisses along her collarbone while his left hand made seductive trails up and down Chloe's spine. He'd never thought he could be so bold, but this girl, no, this woman, made him feel things he never believed imaginable. Chloe's head rolled to one side, giving Brady full access to her sensitive flesh.

"Mmmmm... Brady..." Chloe breathed, closing her eyes.

"Arciana..." Brady whispered between kisses. Hearing that name, suddenly caused a mental image of the events of the morning to pop into Chloe's mind. The kiss they had shared, followed by Cynthia's bomb shell suddenly flashed before her. Chloe's eyes snapped open in panic. No! Her name was Chloe Kiriakis, not Arciana... he had to know that.

"Brady stop. Please, stop," Chloe asked as firmly as she could manage, but not frantically. She knew he'd never do anything she asked him not to. God help her, how she wished they didn't have to stop. Brady halted immediately, fearing he'd gone too far too fast. After all, only God knew what she had been put through during her years of slavery. No telling what painful memories arose because of his sudden assertiveness. He would sooner die then push her into doing anything she felt she had to, out of fear or obligation or any other emotion save for love. Brady straightened, pulling back both hands, so he was no longer touching her. He met her gaze, immediately cursing his actions the moment he saw the panic in her eyes that she could not hide.

"What is it, Arciana? What's wrong? Did I... did I go too far...?"

"No, no, Brady, it's not that. It's not... we can't do this. I can't do this. You don't know even the first thing about who I am," Chloe replied. Brady let out a silent sigh of relief. Perhaps she only meant to tell him what he'd suspected from the beginning, that she had lied about her true name?

"If you mean to tell me that your name isn't even Arciana, you needn't bother. I've always known that. It makes no difference to me what your birth name is," Brady stated.

"You... you knew I was lying?" Chloe asked in disbelief. He couldn't know her name wasn't Arciana, without knowing her true name. But, then, he couldn't know that, or he wouldn't have kissed her in such an imitate manner.

"I've known that from the beginning. There was just something about the way you say your name. I knew it was a lie, but I thought nothing of it. It's not uncommon for... ahem... freed slaves to take a new name. It's not really a big deal. I, of all people, know what it's like to be judged solely on a name," Brady stated.

"Brady, it's not just a name to me. It's who I..." Chloe was shushed before she could continue by Brady, who placed a finger gently to her lips, asking for her silence.

"Shhh. Listen to me, Arciana. Will you please just listen for a moment, and not say anything?" Brady asked. Chloe nodded slowly, unable to will herself to answer verbally least her voice shake. Brady lowered his hand, to reclaim her hand in his, an action which was becoming as natural to him as breathing. "This seems to upset you greatly, for whatever reason you feel cause for alarm. But I want to tell you it shouldn't. A name doesn't make you who you are. I don't have to hear endless stories about your childhood and adolescence to know who you are. I don't need to know what name your parents gave to you when you were born to know that you are a wonderful, caring, beautiful person. A name is little more then a word, merely used to identify one person in a crowd from another. I'm not sure exactly what you feel you must tell me about yourself, or your past. But I do know, whatever it is, it's not going to change anything. You could tell me you're really some kind of spy from another country who's married to some classy royal named Jeeves and it wouldn't change my opinion of you. Now, granted I'd be a bit disappointed on that married part..." Brady smiled slightly, causing Chloe to grin was well. "But, it wouldn't make me feel any differently about you. I don't need to know even the smallest detail about your past. All I need to know is the here and the now. The past doesn't matter, it doesn't make you who you are. The only thing that matters is that you're here, now... with me. And hopefully, you'll want to stay for quite some time. Whatever you chose to tell me, or not tell me, I'm alright with it, as long as you feel comfortable with your decision. Whatever you do or don't say to me, I want it to be because you want to say it, not because you feel you must, for whatever reasons. But, there is nothing, not a thing on this earth, that you could tell me that would change what I feel for you. It couldn't change the fact that I... that I'm falling in love with you," Brady said hesitantly. But he wouldn't regret speaking the truth out loud; he wanted to always be open with her, to make her want to trust him and believe in him. And the truth was, he'd fallen head over heels. Chloe's jaw dropped in surprise, before she managed to awkwardly cover, placing her hand over her lips.

"You... you're... falling in..."

"Already fallen would be the more accurate term really. Fallen completely, madly, in love with you," Brady stated. He smiled brightly, taking her hand from her lips and bringing it to his to kiss her fingers lightly. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Well... I... uh... yes. I... I mean... you don't even really know..."

"Now, what exactly did I just spend the last 5 minutes babbling on and on about? I do know you, Arciana, or whatever you wish to call yourself. I know all I need to. I know what I see, and I love what I know," Brady stated, turning her hand over to kiss her palm. Chloe shivered with delight as his kiss moved up to her wrist, though he paused to speak again. "Whatever it is you wanted to tell me, I'll understand. Love means understanding. But, you don't need to ever tell me anything that you don't want to. I know enough to know that I can and will trust you."

"Do you really mean all that, Brady?" Chloe choked out, trying not to allow her voice to quiver, her desire for more of his touch staring to take her over completely. So many lies and false promises had life dished out to her... She wanted so desperately to believe in the words Brady spoke, and to believe in the feelings that he caused within. But the pessimist in her wouldn't allow her to believe that he truly would understand, that he really would love her if he knew who her family was. Brady smiled, finally letting her arm drop back down to her side and looking up to meet her eyes once again.

"Have I ever deceived you in any way, my love?" Brady asked with a charming half grin. "I am a man of my word. I have never said anything to you that I didn't truly mean. And I do not have the intention of starting now." It was a promise, she knew. It was her reassurance. He had said he loved her, even after only just meeting her, which perhaps made his love more true. And in doing so, he swore to love her unconditionally. Chloe melted into his embrace as he took her in his arms once more, melted into the safety and security his strong yet gentle embrace provided. In his arms alone, she felt safe, loved... whole, for the first time in her entire existence. She had never felt any such feeling, not even in her naive childhood years. Chloe knew then and there, if she ever let this slip away from her, if she let Brady slip away, she would never feel this safe, this complete, with anyone else ever again. As Brady leaned his head down to reclaim his sensuous kissing on her neck, Chloe spoke her heart freely, unwilling to have a care of the consequences.

"Brady?"

"Mmmm?" Brady replied through kisses. Chloe leaned her head down, her lips centimeters from his ear.

"I love you too," Chloe whispered. Brady's head shot up, his wide flaming blue eyes meeting her calm, cool blue eyes. It was his turn to be too shocked for words.

"You... what did you.. did you just say...?" Chloe smiled, this time putting her finger to his lips to quiet his babbling, though he was just so adorable at that moment.

"Brady... shut up, and kiss me," Chloe said with a sultry smile. She put her hands on each side of his face, pulling him to her in a steamy kiss. She buried her fingers into Brady's blonde hair, while Brady wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as he could. He almost couldn't believe what was happening. After his precious sister Isabella was murdered, Brady believed he was cursed, destined to live a miserable life of solitude. Many had come along and tried to get close to him. Most of which however were princesses or royal maidens seeking only to become a King's wife. None of them had ever mattered, since, no matter how sincere some of them were, they all either saw him only as the ultimate prize, or befriended him only because of his status in life. Only Harold, Jason, and Shawn had ever been allowed to really know him, but even those friendships had been pushed aside to an extent after Isabella's death.

For the longest time, Brady had looked upon any and all relationships as a plague, as if they were heartaches just waiting to happen. Now, so many years after giving up all hope of finding happiness, here he was in the arms of the love of his life, and he'd only known her a few short days. It all seemed so surreal, too good to be true. And yet, it was. Brady's thoughts drifted back to the present, concentrating solely on the woman before him. He slid his tongue slowly along Chloe's bottom lip, teasingly seeking entrance. Chloe gratefully complied, their tongues mingling together in passionate fury, each desperate to please the other to the fullest. They melted into one another, the entire world dissolving around them until only they remained in existence. They only parted when they each become aware of a need for air, reluctantly parting to breathe, but still allowing their foreheads to touch. Panting for breath, Brady leaned his head down to rest upon her shoulder, revealing in the feeling of her touch.

"Stay with me tonight," Brady whispered. He felt her tense slightly, though had he known it was merely an instinctual reaction after her countless years with Lord Paul, he would not have been so alarmed. He raised his head quickly, Chloe's arms now at her side again, and released his grip on her waist. "I do not ask anything of you, except to hold you in my arms tonight, as I did the night before," Brady assured, feeling perhaps he'd made a mistake in speaking without thinking. "I... I will be leaving for Mucche in the morning. I have no idea when I will possibly return. If I must spend so much time away from my home... then I would wish for my last night to be spent with you at my side. I would be content to hold you beside me, for even a few short hours, if you would allow it."

Chloe searched his eyes as he spoke, seeking the truth from the window to his soul which he could not hide. Chloe understood now what he was asking. He would be content with whatever she would allow, even if it only meant he could hold her... but he longed for so much more. Now, through the eyes of love, she could see all the pain and sorrow he'd spent years trying to hide. Through the eyes of love, she could see his heart slowly breaking with each passing moment. What's more, she could hear his silent plea, a plea for salvation. His flaming blue eyes cried out to her to save him from himself, save him from his wretched lonely, empty life. It was a cry she knew all to well; she herself had longed for that for as long as she could remember. Consequences be damned, she knew what they both wanted, both needed. So what if all this sudden emotion was over-whelming, to the both of them. So what if they knew so little about each other's history's, specially hers. For the first time in her life, Chloe believed in something again, and that something she believed in was Brady's divine love for her, despite the circumstances. With a slight smile, Chloe inched her hand behind her back, skillfully loosening the ties of her dress.

"I will allow you that... and more," Chloe added, loosening the last tie on her dress. She shrugged the thin garment off her shoulders, allowing the material to pool at her feet and leaving her in nothing but her corset undergarments. Brady's jaw dropped in pure astonishment, only somehow causing Chloe's smile to widen.

"Oh... my... I... Arciana... I didn't mean... I don't expect..." but whatever else he would have said was quickly silenced by her lips on his. Chloe stepped her feet out of the offending garment and her leather dress shoes, kicking them both aside. Taking Brady with her, Chloe began to back up, inching towards the lavish, canopy bed, which seemed so inviting, placed in the center of the back wall of Brady's bedchambers, surrounded by candles forming a very intimate, though previously unintended, lighting, with it's silky black drapes cascading around all sides except the end of the bed where if flared down to leave an opening.

"I know you don't expect anything of me, Brady. That is why I want this. You do want this, don't you Brady?" Chloe asked. Aside from the now rather obvious physical arousal, which in itself was making her body temperature rise, she could see in his eyes that he wanted her. What made her completely unafraid of that was that she knew he didn't just want her body. She knew in her heart that he wanted her mind, body, and soul, and that he wanted to make love to her, make her his completely. That didn't scare her, although she felt it should. He might not want that once he learned the truth about her. And, although Chloe had tried to convince herself this would be wrong, she knew it wasn't. She knew it was right, and now, she knew he felt it as well. Brady slowly nodded, wishing to God leather pants weren't so damn tight to begin with. Having this beautiful woman standing before him, asking if he wanted to make love to her was having extreme effects on him, both physically and emotionally. But, he'd be damned if he let his physical attraction for her get the better of him, or inevitably scare her love away. Surely, she would think him to be a terrible fake, only interested in her gorgeous body if he allowed such attractions to take over so suddenly.

"Yes... I do want you... but that's not the only thing I care about. I want so much more then just..." Again Chloe silenced him, but with a simple nod of her head.

"Brady, I know that. I know you're not just after my body. I wouldn't see it before, but I believe in your love for me, I really do. And, I believe in my love for you."

"As thrilled as I am to hear you say that..." Brady started, although he was beginning to get rather uncomfortable, what with all this talking going on while she was standing half naked before him. "We don't need to rush anything. I never dreamed I would find someone to fall in love with the way I have you. I want to just hold onto that feeling, without there being any pressure. Not to mention I... the timing... I don't want you to think you have to do anything before I..." Brady trailed off, but Chloe understood his fears. Though he wanted her, he feared she only felt obligated to be with him before he left for war, a war in which he might not return. With no nevermind of her current state of near-undress, Chloe wrapped her arms around Brady's neck, standing on her tip toes to face him eye to eye.

"Brady... you said that to love me, you had to know me. And if you know me enough to love me, then you would know that I would never do anything I didn't want to. So you see Brady... I do feel grateful to you for all you've done for me. But I don't feel that I must sleep with you just because I feel the need to give back for all your kindness, or because you'll be leaving in the morning, with a chance, God forbid, that you won't be coming back. What I'm feeling right now, comes from the heart. And right now... my heart is, for the first time in my life, over-flowing with joy and love. I want to hold onto that feeling Brady. I want to hold onto that for all the days of the rest of my life," Chloe said whole heartedly. Brady, unable to find any words that could possibly describe the wondrous emotions he was experiencing, brought his hand up to her cheek, caressing her soft skin with the back of his knuckles, and ignoring the discomfort his confining leather pants were causing.

For just one night, they could forget about all their troubles, and just be together. No senseless battles or long lost siblings or spiteful jealous twits could torment them, even if only for one night. Even if it meant her world would be shattered come daylight, when she confessed her dark secret to Brady, Chloe knew if they could share just one night together, expressing their unconditional love for one another, that she could make it through her life alone should fate so chose to require her. If they were not meant to be, not meant to overcome their hardships together, then at least she would have this one moment to cherish, forever.

"Make love to me, Brady. Please... make love to me," Chloe pleaded, planting soft, sensuous kisses on the sensitive skin of his neck, kisses that nearly drove him over the edge. Brady's eyes glazed over with desire, a desire he could no longer attempt to quell. Pushing aside all his doubts, all his fears, he swept her effortlessly into his arms. No matter what the consequences, he needed her, needed her to make him feel whole again. And she needed him too. Perhaps, finally, they could heal, together. Brady carried her over to his bed, placing her gently down on the end of it. Chloe smiled lovingly up at him as he towered over her, bringing her hands up to his well muscled chest to begin removing his white dress shirt. Before she even managed to undo the first set of buttons, however, he gently removed her hands from their work, holding them firmly but gently in his.

"Arciana… I want you to know… I need you to know… that if this doesn't end up happening tonight… I'm ok with that. We don't have to do anything tonight. I have waited my whole life for someone like you, and I would wait forever still," Brady stated honestly. Truth be told, he knew that if he joined her on that bed, he might not be able to stop. There might be no going back. But then, Chloe understood his real reason for hesitation. "I don't want you to have any regrets, now, or ever."

"Brady… the only thing I would regret, is not making love with you tonight. I trust you will wait… but I don't want to make you have to wait. I want this, Brady. NO regrets, no disappointments, no expectations… just us," Chloe said. She loosened her hands from his grasp, so she could continue her work of removing Brady's shirt. She mad quick work of the ivory buttons, slipping the silky material off his broad shoulders and onto the floor. Chloe let out a silent gasp of breath, his perfectly sculptured chest and tight lean stomach a glorious sight to behold. Somehow, this time seeing him like this was different from the night before. Besides the many candles, the room was now dark, but the candlelight was more then sufficient. Both of them had already begun to sweat; the candle lighting caused Brady's upper body to glisten amazingly, exciting Chloe even more. She trailed her finger tips lightly over his arm, outlining the contours of his impressive biceps, making her way up his arm and over his chest.

She withdrew her hand then, scooting herself back further towards the head of the bed, beckoning Brady to join her. Brady put his knees against the edge of the bed, quickly kicking off his still laced-up boots, before crawling up on the bed to join her, settling on his knees in front of her, her legs parted so that one was on each side of him. He tilted her head up with both hands, bringing his head down to devour her mouth, invading her spicy depths with his tongue. Chloe welcomed the evasion, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her. Brady slowly moved his hands down her neck and bare shoulders, taking his time to memorize every curve, every contour. He hesitated however before his hands reached the top of her ample breasts, where the leather ties to her corset began. Chloe smiled into his kiss, finding what she believed to be a gentlemanly shyness to be completely enticing. Chloe took hold of his hand, bringing it up to her lips, kissing each one of his knuckles, before placing his hand firmly down onto her breast. Reassured, Brady began to slowly loosen the ties of her corset, while his mouth found it's way to Chloe's neck and jawbone.

"I have a confession to make," Brady murmured through his sensuous attack on her neck, taking his time with each leather binding that separated her from him. Chloe sighed with content, again intertwining her fingers in his rugged blonde hair, the feel of his strong loving hands on her awakening sensations within her she'd believed long dead, or ones she never dreamed she would ever experience. "I've never done this before," Brady admitted. Chloe's head shot up, and she tilted Brady's chin up to meet her eyes. This was his first time? Guild suddenly over-came her. A person as good and kind hearted as Brady deserved to have a special first time. God only knew how much she wished she could look back on her first and smile at a happy memory instead of cringe.

"Brady… I…."

"I was waiting. Waiting… for you," Brady interrupted. Chloe gave him a confused look as his hand abandoned the last remaining tie on her corset, placing it instead just above her heart, the feverent pounding just under his fingers. "The woman in my dream… the dream I told you I had as a child… it was you. I know that now. I think I knew it the moment that I first saw you. It's you… it's always been you." Chloe felt her eyes begin to tear up, her heart over-flowing with emotion. What had she possibly done to deserve the love of this man?

"Oh, Brady…" was all she could manage, before reclaiming his lips with hers in a passionate kiss. Coaxing her to sit up on her knees, Brady loosened the last tie of her corset. With steady hands, he helped her out of the offending material, leaving her free of all restraints. Brady inhaled sharply, taking in every inch of her now exposed frontal body. She was, if possible, more beautiful then he ever could have imagined. But, one thing in particular stood out… and it was not a very pleasing sight.

"Oh, God…" Brady breathed, mentally tracing the deep angry scar which ran between her breasts down to just above her stomach. A few smaller, less visible scars were randomly placed about her pale flesh, and now that he looked closer, a few slightly prominent scars ran along her inner thigh of which had been previously hidden from his view. Chloe sighed sadly, somewhat disappointed that their passion would be delayed for another moment because of the scars left by Lord Paul.

"Now that you see these scars, you must see them all, so that nothing will surprise you," Chloe stated. Still on her knees, Chloe turned her completely bare back to him, moving her long hair aside to reveal yet more scars. One, which ran horizontally across her entire upper back, from shoulder to shoulder, was even worse then the first scar. She was completely exposed to him, in every way, yet she felt no embarrassment. She felt only fear, and resentment; fear that he would think her repulsive, and resentment that, even after his death, Lord Paul was still controlling her life. Brady silently gasped, guilt consuming him as he lightly ran the palm of his hand over one of the many clusters of scars.

"Oh Arciana… I'm so sorry…" Brady breathed. Only part of him, the lower part that was, was still very much aware that she was completely without attire. Brady felt a tear slid down his cheek; a tear of resent, a tear of anger, a tear of self-loathing… angered that she had been put through so much, and pained that it was his own father who had caused her to be in a position where she could be hurt.

"Do you think me repulsive?" Chloe asked.

"No. God, no. It's just… you've suffered so much…" Brady shook his head, grazing his hands lightly down her arms, bending his head to lay a soft kiss on the back of her neck, mindful of a small scar as if he feared they still pained her. "You're still the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on."

"Then you mustn't have seen many women," Chloe said.

"Why do you say such things? Here you are before me, the most breathtaking sight a man can behold, and yet you refuse to believe. Why?" Brady asked.

"Because I'm hurting Brady," Chloe answered sadly. She released her hair, allowing it to cascade down her bare back, turning her head to face him. "And so are you," Chloe stated, falling deeply into the sad blue pools which formed his eyes. "But, that can stop, tonight. No more talking, no more questions… just us, putting a stop to all our pain. Make the pain go away, Brady. If only for tonight… please, make the pain go away," Chloe pleaded in whisper. She lifted her chin, their lips meeting again for but a moment of pure emotion, before Brady placed his hands on her bare hips, turning her to fully face him again. Yes, they were both hurting, each with a different, painful past. But now, they could sooth each other's wounds, put an end to their suffering, at least for one night. Gently, he eased her back down, onto the many pillows, the silky smooth material of his black comforter tickling her back with cool sensations, in contrast to how hot her skin now felt to the touch. Brady lowered down on top of her, propping himself up with his arm so he could gaze upon her entire form. He smiled down at her, loving and with a passion and hunger that made her burn with desire, before leaning down to capture her lips, sparking the beginning of an electrifying night of earth-shattering love-making……

The early morning sun poured in from the balcony windows, bathing the room in an almost ethereal blue glow. But the light did not disturb the peaceful occupants of the large canopy bed, wrapped soundly in each other's embrace. Chloe had been awake long before sunrise. Truth was, she hadn't really slept much at all. She'd been content to lay in Brady's arms, study his handsome face as he slept, listen to the beating of his heart, or watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Now in the soft light of dawn, she was memorized by how young he truly looked. So at peace, he didn't look like a battle hardened King. He appeared as he truly was, a simple man, who, through events out of his hands, had been forced to grow up too quickly, but had still managed to remain pure and kind deep down. He possessed both the skills and knowledge of a man, and the loyalties and affections of a child, making him more perfect then Chloe could have ever imagined. She brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, careful not to disturb his peaceful slumber.

Her body still tingled delightfully from their night together, her mind ablaze with memories. But all the good feelings, all the wonderful memories, were still plagued with doubt and guilt. As she lay blissfully in Brady's arms, it had occurred to her how selfish she had been. Not only last night, but since she arrived in the castle only 3 days before. During their whirl-wind relationship, Brady had done nothing but give. He gave her so much, out of love, and never expected a thing in return, while she had done nothing but take. And last night… no matter how wonderful and amazing, she had acted no different. When she'd ask Brady to make lover to her, she hadn't thought of his needs, only hers. She needed his love, needed him to desire her… But he needed truth, honesty… someone he could trust with his fragile heart. Chloe needed Brady to love her unconditionally, but Brady needed Chloe to open herself up to him without fear. But, no… she would never regret what had passed between them. She would never, ever even think of wishing her night with Brady had never happened. Truth be told, lightning could strike her dead that very moment and she would die perhaps the happiest woman on earth. But there was no storm, and there would be consequences she would have to deal with.

Chloe was shaken from her thoughts when she felt Brady stir. She looked up, her head still lain upon his chest, just as his eyes fluttered open. Brady blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light which, thanks to the canopy, did not shine directly in his eyes, before his vision focused on Chloe's angelic, now smiling face. Brady returned the smile, thanking God for her presence. The previous night had been so breathtaking, so superbly perfect, he had been half afraid that he would wake to find it had all been a blissful dream. That fate would be so cruel as to not allow her to be beside him when he woke. And yet, here she was, entwined in his embrace, smiling up at him.

"Good morning," Brady greeted sleepily. He leaned his head down, pulling her up slightly to meet her lips in a good morning kiss.

"Mmmm… morning," Chloe returned, laying her head back down on his chest and snuggling close. Brady held his arm around her waist, fearful that perhaps if he were to let go, she would fade away and leave him.

"I was afraid I was dreaming," Brady stated, running a hand down her arm slowly.

"I'm no dream," Chloe sighed, now somehow sad. Brady's smile faded, sensing the 'we need to talk' mood that had enveloped them. "Brady… we need to…"

"You have regrets, don't you?" Brady interrupted. Chloe looked up, her eyes filled with sadness to see the worry in his eyes where there had just been blissful joy. She should have waited, given him at least some time before turning so serious. But, hadn't waiting to express the truth been the reason she was in this situation in the first place?

"That's not what I'm saying, Brady," Chloe replied, sitting up slightly, holding the blanket up to cover herself. "I just… it can't wait any longer, we need to talk. Last night… was… I don't even have the words. I meant it when I said I could never, ever regret what happened last night." Brady held his breath, waiting for the inevitable '…but…' "But…"

"You do have some regret," Brady finished for her. Chloe sighed, nodding sadly.

"Yes… Yes, I have one regret," Chloe admitted. "I regret that I didn't tell you the truth last night."

"What truth is there to tell?" Brady asked.

"The truth, about me," Chloe stated. She pulled the covers off, picking a sheet up off the floor that had been discarded previously that night, wrapping it around her naked form as she stood.

"I told you, I know all about you that I need to know," Brady stated, propping himself up on one elbow, watching every move her body made as she walked to a bedside window, memorized by her motions, but immediately missing the feel of her beside him. This was not quite how he'd envisioned waking.

"That's not good enough now," Chloe replied. "You deserve much better then that. I know so much about you. You deserve to know all about who I am."

"Well, if you feel so strongly about it, why don't you tell me now," Brady suggested, he too standing from his bed, securing a sheet around his waist. He joined Chloe in front of the window, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pulling her close, resting his chin on her shoulder, breathing in her wondrous scent. "I promise I'll listen to all you have to say with an open mind. Lets start simple. What is your real name?" Simple… yes, simply the most difficult bit of information she had to tell him. Chloe inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly to mentally prepare herself for what was to come.

"Chloe," Chloe answered softly, almost shamefully. "Chloe Kiriakis." She felt his grasp on her tighten, perhaps in his shock. Brady grasped onto her upper arms, firmly twirling her around to face him. And she thought that was it. She thought surely he would strike her, spit on her in disgust or push her away. But she did not discover rage in his eyes as they searched hers. She found astonishment, wonder… It appeared as if he was deep in thought, as if he were studying every inch of her face and her eyes, perhaps searching his memory for the answers he desired.

"It is you," Brady whispered, more to himself then to her. Chloe shook her head in total disbelief. He should be yelling, telling her how much she disgusted him for deceiving him all this time when he knew what her family meant to him, or at least be angry with her. But the way he was looking at her… it almost frightened her. Anger and hatred, she could handle. But this… looking upon her as if he'd always known her, and as if he'd always known who she was deep inside, this scared her.

"Brady, I… I don't think you understand. I'm trying to tell you who I…"

"I know who you are," Brady stated. He released his grasp on her arms, but not as if he were repulsed like would have expected. "I can't believe I didn't see… it's really you? You're really Chloe Kiriakis? I mean… it's been so long… and now, you're really here?"

"Yes, Brady, I'm really Chloe Kiriakis… you know, the daughter of your greatest enemy, the man who killed your father and your sister? This isn't a good thing, Brady. It's not a good thing that I'm the…."

"..long lost heiress to the Mucchean throne?" Brady finished. Surprisingly, he smiled. "Now I understand. I understand why you've been so afraid to tell me anything about yourself and your past. Chloe," Brady started, placing his hands gently on her shoulders, "you don't have to be afraid anymore. I would never, ever judge someone based on a name. I could never hate you for being a Kiriakis. I never did. I never hated Philip from the beginning, for that matter. It's his actions that I judged, not those of his father. I thought you would know that."

"How could I have known? I mean… Brady, I don't understand…" Chloe shook her head, all concepts of reality just completely blown from her mind. Brady silenced her, placing a finger to her lips, smiling understandingly.

"You don't remember me, do you?" Brady asked knowingly. It didn't surprise him. It had been so many long years… And the kind of life she had been forced to live had no doubt prepared her to expect only the worse. She no doubt believe he would instantly hate her for who her family was, because she didn't remember that he had always thought of her as pure and innocent, so unlike her other relatives.

"Remember you…?" Chloe asked, confused.

"Come, sit with me. I'll explain," Brady stated, turning towards the large black couch alongside the eastern wall. Securing the sheet a bit tighter around his waist, Brady sat down, reaching out an arm to beckon Chloe to his side. Chloe hesitated, before joining him, settling down on the couch beside him, one hand holding up her sheet, the other on Brady's knee. Brady rested his hand on top of hers before speaking. "You remember the day you were kidnaped?" Brady asked. Chloe nodded solemnly; how could she forget? Well, some things were a bit fuzzy… it had been 13 years after all.

"Yes, I remember. It's not something one easily forgets."

"Well, you apparently don't remember everything. Like, oh, say, a certain little boy with dirty blonde hair and a short rugrat of a 7 year old girl," Brady replied.

"No, I…" Chloe closed her eyes, envisioning that day in her mind. She'd never forgotten a single detail of the actual kidnaping. Being ripped from the safety of her home, being roughly thrown into a small, dirty slavers cart, crying in a dark corner as she and her brother held onto each other for dear life… The memory of John's guards ripping them apart and dragging them both kicking and screaming into the castle to be taken in front of John… and then it hit her. Chloe's eyes snapped open in surprise, finally seeing in her minds eye what she had forgotten. "I remember…" Chloe breathed. The memory, perhaps intentionally repressed, was that of her last chance of freedom-- her brother's savior, who had been unable to rescue her from her torturous fate. A memory of a young boy, with amazingly piercing blue eyes; the memory of Brady as a child…..

FLASHBACK

Little Isabella squealed with utter rage, demanding for the millionth time for her pig-headed older brother to stop that instant and give her favorite dolly, a dark-haired porcelain doll in a white lacy dress which Belle fondly named Miss Edith, back to her. Brady had taken the doll, claiming Belle spent far too much time "fawning over that stupid piece of badly clothed plaster" and ran off at full speed. Although Isabella surprisingly was the faster of the two children, today she had put on her favorite dress, and heeled shoes, for a party that was to be held that evening in the ball room. Belle wouldn't dream of ripping her dress or getting it even the slightest bit dirty. So, she was tottering along after her brother, trying desperately to catch him while still keeping her clothing clean and untarnished as they scampered down the Palace halls, which were surprisingly near empty. Usually, the halls of the Black family castle were a bustle with activity, but today, barely a soul was to be seen.

"Brady, you give me back Miss Edith right this minute!" Belle yelled, getting only laughter in reply. Oh, how Brady loved tormenting his little sister. Brady, usually a little more serious -- after all, he was heir to the entire kingdom -- was not feeling like a future King today. The last few months had been hard, and had been spent in a state of mourning for the dearly departed Queen Marlena, who had perished in a horrid fire while visiting a commoner friend from her peasant days. Brady and Isabella, who were now very much old enough to understand death and lose, had been in a state of devastation for the longest time, but were now beginning to cope, coming to terms with her death. John had been in a state of denial, up until a few days ago, when he up and called for a huge celebration, to honor his late second wife's treasured memory. Losing Marlena hadn't quite been like losing his beloved Isabella. Yes, he loved Marlena, but his sweet, sweet Izzy had been his one true soul-mate.

But Marlena's death had brought back painful memories of Isabella, ones that John had hoped to forever repress. He had spent the first few weeks locked away in his room, or out attending to whatever business needed his attention. He barely saw the children for the first month after the funeral, and even more rarely spoke to them. They were perhaps too painful of a reminder of what he had lost. But John's mood had suddenly changed, so of course the entire kingdom rejoiced with him. It was almost as if he'd found some way to instantly take away his pain. Or at least had just woken up and accepted fate's cruelty. Rounding a corner, Brady neared the Throne Room. Well, the stairs to the Throne Room anyway, as they were a floor above it. Brady and Belle often snuck out of their rooms, hiding behind the railings of the Grand Staircase, so they could watch the meetings and trials which went on well past their bedtime. Brady had every intention of holding Miss Edith over the railing and threatening to drop her, but his playful antics were put to an abrupt halt when their nanny, Caprice, emerged from the staircase. She immediately hurried forward to divert the children away.

"Your Royal Highness, you shouldn't tease your sister so. Come now, children, you two have studies you must attend to. If you wish to attend the party tonight, you mustn't neglected your schooling," Caprice scolded. Isabella caught up finally, immediately snatching Miss Edith from Brady's arms and holding her tight. Brady didn't notice, his mind was on the faint, but definite sounds coming from downstairs in the Throne Room. Isabella immediately heard as well, and shared a look with her brother that said "time to ditch the nanny." You see, both children were born with a natural curiosity and a desire for knowledge beyond their understanding. If something big was going on in the Palace, they always yearned to know about it. Seeing that Miss Edith's left shoe was now mission, probably fallen off in their delightful plight, Brady saw his opportunity.

"Miss Caprice, Miss Edith has lost her shoe. It must have fallen off while we were playing. Can you help us find it?" Brady fake pleaded. Caprice sighed disdainfully; the last thing she needed was to search the entire castle for one tiny missing doll shoe.

"Now now, Your Royal Highness, don't you think that since you are responsible for it's being lost, that you should find Miss Edith's shoe by yourself? After all, if you hadn't taken her from your sister, she wouldn't have lost her precious shoe," Caprice pointed out. Isabella giggled despite herself, Brady elbowing her sharply in reply.

"Please, Miss Caprice. It's such a big castle, and we've been all over it. We just have to find it before the party tonight! I can't study with Miss Edith missing her favorite shoe!" Isabella proclaimed, in her usual "I'm so sweet and innocent" tone that noone with half a heart could ever resist, especially when mixed with her truly angelic face. Caprice shook her head in defeat. Anything to keep the children from the disturbing display below.

"Alright, children, you win. Come now, lets start in your rooms," Caprice ordered, taking Belle by the hand. They obediently followed Caprice to the end of the hall, before Brady spoke up.

"Miss Caprice, Isabella and I played in all these rooms today," Brady lied. "We can look in these while you look in our rooms."

"I think you two are just looking for someone to clean your rooms for you," Caprice pointed out, not even considering that the children were smart enough to know something was up and wanted to stay near the Grand Staircase. Such an obvious thought could not pass her mind even though she'd known the children since they were born. Although, she did remember how big a fit both Brady and Isabella had thrown the last time they were actually asked to clean their own rooms.

"No we're not! We cleaned our rooms this morning," Brady protested. This part was true. Though they had servants who could clean their rooms, truth be told, they were fairly neat children and liked everything to be a certain way. It was the being made to clean by their parents or their nanny that they protested; both children were too free spirited to take orders from anyone, though they also had a respect for their elders.

"We shall just see," Caprice stated. "Alright, children, have it your way. But you two stay right here in this wing. I don't want to have to go searching for the two of you as well."

"Yes Miss Caprice," Brady and Isabella promised in unison. They each turned to open two doors which lead to two of the castles many empty conference rooms, fully playing up their part and pretending to search for Miss Edith's lost shoe. They continued to scour the floor for evidence of the missing clothing until Caprice was well out of sight. When the coast was clear, brother and sister shared a look, before sprinting off at full speed down the hallway for the Grand Staircase, racing one another to their destination. Brady won of course, as Belle was still very conscious of her long skirt, and now had Miss Edith to worry about. They slowed once they reached the stairs. Brady and Belle, who was still protectively clutching Miss Edith, quietly began to descend the stairs. Halfway down the stairway, lay a large platform so the stairs could curve to the left, so that they ended in the dead center of the Throne Room. It was that platform where Isabella and Brady always hid, because it overlooked the Throne Room, giving them full view of the entire room, but was completely out of sight, invisible to those below. Brady and Belle crouched down on their knees, peering through the bared railing at the scene unfolding below them. Isabella gasped at what she saw, Brady quickly covering her mouth, least they would be heard. He, however, was as shocked as his sister. Down in the Throne Room, two children, who couldn't have been older then Isabella, were being dragged inside by four guards, to be presented in front of King John, who was perched on his throne, looking very pleased with the display.

"We have done as you required, Your Majesty," stated John's head guard, a heartless beast by the name of Anthony. "Shall we take them to the dungeon now?" There seemed to be a fleeting moment of quilt pass John's face, a moment of regret that perhaps only Brady noticed.

"Brady, they're my age," Isabella whispered, seemingly utterly baffled that mere children were being brought to trial. Children couldn't do wrong, at least not so wrong that the King would give punishment instead of their parents.

"There will be no need. They are to be taken to the court square immediately. Mendez has my orders, he will be waiting to take them into his custody," John replied, now slightly grim.

"They're being taken to the auction," Brady whispered in disbelief. There was to be an auction that afternoon before the celebration in the Palace. It had been rumored that the King himself, though supposedly against slavery, had set the auction to take place. Brady had witnessed an auction once, one day when he and Belle had snuck out of the castle again. It had been absolutely appalling; men, women and children alike had been treated like dogs as they were wrongfully sold off to the highest bidder. Even one so young as Brady knew it was wrong. And yet still, he had not seen a child as young as these two in captivity.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Anthony said, bowing respectfully.

"Brady, we have to help them," Isabella whispered, determined. She lovingly laid Miss Edith down on the floor, quickly and quietly removing her heeled shoes, because they were just no good for running.

"Izzy, no," Brady whispered urgently. He loved and adored his father. There was no one Brady respected more. Brady had been merely 11 years old, but he knew that even though his father was very tormented by his years of hardship, he was a good man with a good soul. Surely his judgment could be trusted completely? But, as the guards roughly turned the kicking and screaming children around, giving Brady and Isabella a full view of their terror-struck, tear-streaked faces, Brady knew there was nothing right or lawful about what was happening before them. He nodded in agreement to her unasked questioned, turning to his sister. Since both of them were rather small in comparison to the large surely guards, they only had 1 option. Grab the kids, and run like hell's fury was on there heels

"We'll take them down through the dungeons and out the tunnels," Brady stated. Isabella nodded, falling into place behind him as he slowly began to slink down the remaining steps, keeping hidden from sight. There was no way they could take the obvious rout, out the front. No matter what was going on in the Palace, the main entrance was of course always very heavily guarded. They'd never make it so much as two feet if they went that way. They often snuck out of the Palace to play without supervision, taking the only surefire way of not getting caught by using a system of usually empty hallways and unused corridors to make their way down to the dungeons, where the entrance to the tunnels which ran under most of the city lay. Brady slowed neared the bottom of the staircase, watching and waiting for the perfect time to strike. The guards seemed to be having a great deal of trouble with the boy, who was trying desperately to break free and get to the girl. The girl was strangely placid, like she had decided it was useless to struggle, or perhaps she was just in too much shock or despair to put up a fight. One guard could handle her, while three had to control the boy. "You take her, I'll get him," Brady instructed as Isabella came up beside him. Still he waited, searching for the perfect moment of attack. Just as the guards lined up with the thankfully open door to their chosen exit, the door to the left of the throne, which lead to the main halls, the boy lashed out with his foot, catching one of the guards hard in the abdomen. At that exact moment, Brady and Isabella barreled down the reaming steps, screaming like banshees as they raced to the aid of the two struggling children.

"Children, stop!" John boomed in vain, jumping up from his seat. Neither listened, literally attacking the guards. Isabella, being must smaller, had to jump on the guard holding the girl, pounding him with her dainty fits and kicking with her small, but still effective, bare feet. Brady, having more of an advantage as he was taller and stronger, slammed head first into the first guard's rather pudgy stomach, as none of them were wearing any sort of armor. Brady kneed another, and simply pushed the one that had already been distracted by the captive boys swift kick, the guards all reeling from the surprise, and dragged the rather surprised, but certainly not arguing young boy towards the door. Isabella gave another swift kick, before grabbing hold of the girl and coaxing her to follow along behind her brother. The guards quickly picked themselves up, ready to pursue the meddlesome renegade children, but John halted them.

"Do not bother. You fools are far to incompetent to catch them in the Palace," John stated angrily. To think, these were the men he thought were the best in his royal guard! It was no wonder the war continued on as it did. All of Black's men were so stupid they could easily be overturned by children, and all of Kiriakis' men couldn't spot an ambush if arrows were hitting them in the ass. John shook his head sadly, saddened by what his proud country had become. He knew his son's mind well. He knew where they would head. He had to commend his children's efforts. It almost made him reconsider… almost. He could only pray that his children remained so virtuous, and that they would be too young to remember this day when they grew older. Eliminating the evil Kiriakis line was the only way to ensure that his children could be safe and prosperous, and remained the pure innocent sprites they were now.

"Summon the others, quickly, and follow me. I know exactly where they'll head," John instructed. Elsewhere, Brady and Isabella were racing along, darting through the near empty corridors, making their way downward into the heart of the castle, and further towards the dungeons, their renegade cargo in tow. They ran, not stopping, for fear that the devil's fury would be there behind them should they turn around. They pushed past startled councilmen, rounded corners like there was no tomorrow, and avoided guards like the plague. Finally, they reached a large wooden door, which Brady opened, ushering the others inside a rather baron, dreary room and bolting the door behind them. Brady quickly rushed over to the other side of the room, where there was a stone platform built into the wall, something like a monument grave-stone. He pulled back a large gray slab, revealing a pitch black hole in the ground. Brady took a lit torch from the wall, handing it to the boy before ushering him into the dark opening. He then helped his sister down into the tunnel. He turned to help the girl in, but was startled to find her missing. Brady turned full around, facing the doorway, to find the girl huddled on the floor by the door, her knees bent up to chest, her arms wrapped protectively around herself

She was crying now, her auburn hair hiding most of her face from view. Brady approached her slowly, cautiously reaching out a hand to her shoulder. But the girl jerked away, drawing further into a little ball. She'd always been the strong one… but now, it had all begun to catch up to her. She was falling to pieces, and it was Brady who would have to pick them up. Brady, who, like his sister, had been born with an ability to calm and help those in need, not to mention he had been the only one Isabella had let near her after her mother's death, so he had experience with comforting those in pain, eased down on the floor beside her, careful to keep his distance at first.

"Hey, it's ok," Brady soothed. "Everything's going to be alright." The girl immediately crumbled into Brady's waiting arms, now sobbing, and unaware of Isabella and the boy watching from the tunnel entrance. "Shhh… don't cry. You're safe now," Brady comforted, wrapping his arms around her tiny form, allowing her to bury her face in his chest. "What's your name?"

"Ch… Chloe," the girl chocked out finally through her tears.

"And the boy?"

"Ma… My brother… Philip," Chloe answered. Brady nodded, somewhat understanding now why they were there. They were the children of Victor Kiriakis, the man responsible for the lose of his not one, but two mothers. Yet he was not repulsed by this. For they were just that, children, barely younger then he and Isabella. They were innocent, just like all children, despite the family they'd been born into, and so they must be protected.

"Well, Chloe… we have to go now. There's not much time. They'll surely find us if we stay here. My sister and I can get you to safety, but you have to trust us. Do you trust us?" Chloe nodded slowly, reluctantly lifting her head. She felt safe here, and didn't want to leave, but she somehow instantly knew she could trust this child. "Good. Then come with me. We'll lead you to safety," Brady stated, unwrapping his arms from around her, somehow feeling almost… saddened that her touch was gone. But such a thought wasn't pondered long by an 11 year old boy. He held out his hand to help her up, leading her over to the tunnels, where Isabella and Philip were no longer visible, but the light from the torch was. Brady helped Chloe down into the tunnel, before grabbing the second torch and going into the tunnel himself, stepping down the few stone steps to join Chloe down at the bottom. He handed her the torch, turning to push the stone slab back into place over the opening to the tunnels, leaving them with only the torches for lighting. Brady turned to Chloe, waving to Belle to come over. "The tunnel's really wide right here, but it gets pretty narrow along the middle. You can go with Belle, she'll guide you. Your brother and I will walked in front. Is that OK?" Chloe nodded, though she would have felt much safer walking besides Brady or her brother. Isabella came up to Chloe, taking the torch from her and smiling reassuringly. She was actually very relieved to be walking besides Chloe. For starters, she was a girl, and young girls are naturally more inclined to want to be around other young girls rather then little boys.

Also, she was a bit unsettled by Philip, which was very strange indeed. Isabella loved everyone, even her annoying older brother, and everyone loved her. She thought everyone as equal, and that everyone, until shown otherwise, was a good and honest person. But… although he seemed kind enough if not a bit quiet most likely from fright, there was just something about him that worried her. It was as if she sensed something would happen to him one day, as if something important would happen to him, or perhaps be caused by him. She shook it off as Brady moved past her to take the other torch from Philip. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she and Brady helped Philip and Chloe to safety. Brady took the torch from Philip, nodding his head forward.

"Follow me." Brady instructed, beginning to walk forward into the dark tunnel. Philip fell into step beside him, Chloe and Isabella following along a step behind. They walked along in silence, Brady setting a steady pace, as a part of him feared they would need the energy to run again. But soon, as they continued to wind through the dark twisty tunnels, the only sound being the soft tap of their feet on the surprisingly stone ground, Chloe broke the silence.

"You never told us your names," Chloe stated softly. She'd heard the girl referred to as Belle, but she hadn't heard the boy's name.

"I'm Brady. And that's my sister, Isabella," Brady answered.

"Who was that horrid man? The one who forced us here?" Philip asked.

"He's not a horrid man!" Isabella protested. She adored her father, even if she disagreed with many of his actions. She trusted in her father, like any daughter would, and didn't like to hear people talk badly of him, no matter the situation.

"He's our father, John Black," Brady replied solemnly. He too idolized his father; he hoped he would grow to be as good a king as John. But, right now, he didn't feel so proud to be a Black. Selling children into slavery simply because they were fathered by an evil man, was completely unacceptable, and so unlike his father.

"You're a Prince?" Chloe asked, taken a bit aback. She wouldn't have imagined to defy their father, especially for the sake of strangers. But then again she and Philip defied their parents on a daily basis, just on such a high magnitude as this.

"And you're a Princess," Brady replied as they rounded yet another turn in the maze of tunnels. "I don't understand why my father took you from your home and brought you here, but I do know it's wrong of him to keep you here. And I intend to make sure you both get home, safe, regardless of my father's opinion of your family." So wise beyond his years, he spoke not as an 11 year old child, but with the intelligence and wisdom of an aged, experienced King. He and Isabella both had always had a way with words, even when they were much younger.

"Then we should thank you for that Brady, and you Isabella. I assure you my father will know who it is that saved us," Philip boasted. Isabella shook her head sadly, picturing her mother's golden hair and sparkling eyes. But that was not Chloe or Philip's doing…

"How much further?" Chloe asked suddenly, trying not to sound whinny. She was tired, and frightened in the dimly lit confined tunnels. All she wanted to do was go home and crawl into the safety of her warm bed where she could pretend this was all a wretched nightmare.

"It won't be long," Brady promised. "The tunnels travel under the entire city. There's a few branches which connected this one to the other important buildings. They're used in emergency's to escape the city. This one will exit on the hillside on the outskirts of the woods. We can take you up into the mountains bordering Mucche, but you'll have to find your way from there."

"You can't take us home?" Chloe asked, sounding rather like a horrified lost puppy who'd been kicked aside.

"No, we can't. We've never gone past the mountain pass leading into Mucche. We wouldn't know how to get into the city. Besides… I don't think it would be wise for us to go anywhere near the city. Surely, you'll encounter some kind of search party on the look out for you," Brady said.

"You don't know our father very well," Chloe muttered disdainfully. More then likely, Victor wasn't even aware that they were missing. Chloe, letting her mind wonder from her troubled family life, now noticed Isabella's bare feet. Here own shoes had been lost in the struggle. She'd been walking barefoot ever since and her feet were killing her. "Your feet aren't sore?" Chloe asked quietly.

"Belle could walk on nails and not feel anything. Some Princess… she's a total tomboy," Brady joked.

"You're just jealous because I'm more of a boy then you are," Isabella returned, causing Chloe to smile for the first time in what seemed ages. Both Brady and Isabella liked to always be doing something. They loved being outside or helping others in any way. So, Isabella wasn't just a pretty face-- or rather, wasn't going to grow up to be just a pretty face, as she was still a girl child after all. She wanted to be an even better Queen then her mother had been… She wanted to be far more active in society, so she wouldn't feel as if Brady was the only one doing anything, and, so that Brady wouldn't be her only true friend. Brady held up his hand suddenly, stopping them all in their tracks.

"Brady, what is…"

"Shhh!" Brady quickly hushed his sister's question before she could ask it. They had neared the end of the tunnels, and a faint light could be seen up ahead. "It's father," Brady stated. Not a sound could be heard other then their breathing, but still, Brady knew that his father was waiting behind the light-weight stone slab at the end of the tunnels that separated them from freedom. Brady could always sense his father's presence. Some nights when he was suffering terrible nightmares, or had fallen ill, he would suddenly feel instantly calmed, because he sensed his father's presence, and felt completely safe. Actually, Brady had a way of sensing everyone in his family. He'd never felt it with Marlena, though he loved her as a mother, because she was not his birth mother. But whenever John or Isabella were nearby, Brady knew it. And sometimes… though all but John thought him delusional and mad, Brady swore he felt his mother, maybe merely watching over him as he slept or brushing a strand of hair gently from his forehead.

"How do you…"

"Don't ask. He just knows," Belle answered Chloe's question. "Brady, what are we going to do?" Belle whispered.

"Well, we could go back," Brady answered quietly, now afraid even the tiniest sound would alert those above them of their presence. "But then we'd have to take the chance of getting caught in the Palace, or in the woods. We can't take the other tunnels… they lead to the town square, jail house, and the marketplace."

"We can take them," Philip stated, careful to keep his tone low. "Chloe and I can run fast. With you and Isabella to help distract them, we can get past them." Brady nodded in approval, although he felt… a sense of doom somehow. It was there best chance. They had managed to get Chloe and Philip free in the first place with a surprise attack. That was perhaps the only chance they had of getting out now. Brady signaled them all to start walking slowly towards the end of the tunnel again.

"Alright, when we get out of here, you and Chloe turn to the right and just run. No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, don't stop running. Go straight up the hill and head for the mountains. You'll find a pass up and through the mountain chain about a mile up. Take that, it should lead you straight into the city," Brady explained quietly. Once they reached the few stairs at the end of the tunnel, he placed the torch on a holder which was built into the left wall. Isabella stepped forward, depositing her torch into the one on the right. "Do you two think you can handle it?"

"We don't have a choice," Chloe replied. She too felt iffy about the plan. Every inch of her told her that they should turn tail and run the other way. But… then there would be the risk of getting caught in the Palace, and they would have much further to go. At least this way, they had a chance.

"We can handle it. I stared out the window of the cart the whole way here. I think I can find the way," Philip answered. Brady nodded, preparing to move the rock slab, when a thought hit him.

"Oh, wait!" Brady exclaimed very quietly, turning to face the girls. Both Chloe and Belle were in long dresses, not suitable for running, though Chloe's was now a bit ragged and torn. Brady pulled out a tiny blade, which was really just a stone sharpened into a semi-dagger which one of the male servants had given him, but would still cut fabric, and got down on one knee in front of Chloe. "Do you mind?" Chloe shook her head in reply, not knowing of any words she could say to reply. Using the blade, Brady cut a slit in the dress at the knee, then swiftly ripped off the material at the seam, leaving Chloe in a fairly clean cut skirt. Brady tossed the left over material aside, moving over to Belle. Belle shook her head, backing away from her brother.

"No," Belle stated firmly. She shouldn't have to cut her favorite dress. She'd run fine before. Marlena had hand made the dress. It had been the last thing she gave to Isabella before her death.

"Come on Izzy. What's more important, you dress, or their lives?" Brady asked. Isabella sighed knowing there was only one right thing to do.

"Alright, do it," Isabella said. She closed her eyes, refusing to watch as her mother's last gift was torn to pieces, leaving her too in a short, clean cut skirt. Brady tossed the material aside, standing. Isabella opened her eyes, taking in the sight of her ruined dress with utter horror. But… all for the greater good….

"Remember… head right. Isabella and I will go left and try to draw them off from you two. Don't worry about the guards, just run like you've never run before for the hilltop. We'll handle them if they go after you," Brady explained.

"Thank you," Chloe said. Brady just nodded, moving up the few stairs. He nodded for Philip to join him, as they both placed their hands on the stone slab.

"Ready?" Brady asked, looking over his shoulder at the two girls, now standing a stair below them. The girls nodded in unison, silently preparing themselves for the escape. "On three," Brady whispered. "One… Two… THREE!" Brady yelled as he and Philip shoved the stone slab out of their way. They came out of the tunnels screaming like banshees yet again. Philip and Chloe quickly darted to the right, while Brady and Isabella darted left. There were twelve or so guards waiting for them, each immediately on guard and coming forth to apprehend the four renegade children. But John was not within sight. Brady expertly darted through the crowd, weaving in an out while still keeping Chloe and Philip in his sight. Philip and Chloe, being equally fast runners and had the advantage of being much smaller and easier to maneuver, had averted the guards, but unfortunately three of them were hot on their trail. Chloe was a bit ahead of Philip, so it was Philip that Brady made a break to help. Making a wide turn to the right, which caused one guard who had been lunging for Brady to fall comically flat on his face, Brady approached the guards in pursuit of the twins.

"Belle, come on!" Brady yelled to his sister, who was having the most trouble with the many guards, though there attention was obviously on the twins and not them. Actually, to an outside observer, the scene was quite humorous. So-called trained and battle hardened soldiers, being completely eluded by four rambunctious children. If only King Victor could have seen the sight, then he would have to wonder just how Nero had managed to always fight back Mucche's attacks. Brady quickly caught up to Philip, easily avoiding the guards because it was evident that now, after the initial sighting, they were after only the Kiriakis children. Brady made it a point to stick his foot out, tripping the largest guard as he raced past them towards Philip. Amazing, that such simple childish acts could be so effective. Philip, now aware that the guards were right on his tail, willed himself to pick up the pace, though his young little legs burned with pain. Soon he and Brady were at a match pace, Brady directly behind him so that the guards would have to go through him to get to Philip. By now, though completely unaware to the other three children, Isabella had been apprehended, leaving Brady as the only one to protect the twins.

Brady looked up to see that Chloe had already reached the top of the hillside, and since he and Philip where close behind, Brady believed them all to be in the clear. But, as Chloe began the straight sprint for the mountain pass, disaster struck. Because she had been concentrating solely on the view in front of her which meant her freedom, she had neglected to see the view under her, and hadn't noticed a small rock jutting out of the ground in her path. Her bare feet left her venerable, and as her foot hit the rock, her running speed went against her. She fell forward because of the direction she was heading, but the slant of the ground caused her to begin to roll backwards and to the left. Philip seemed to veer to the left, wanting to help his sister, but Brady stopped him

"No, go! I'll get her!" Brady demanded. Philip seemed not to want to obey, not wanting to leave his sister's life in Brady's hands. So Brady made him listen, quite literally pushing him back on track which his shoulder. "Go!" Brady ordered. He then turned, circling back to help Chloe. She'd rolled quite a distance, until she'd slammed into a tree. As Brady approached, not noticing the many guards coming towards them from the far right, Chloe lay unmoving at the base of the tree. But as he got close, Chloe reached out her tiny hand, reaching out to him for help. Brady reached out to help her up, but just as their fingers were nearly touching, Brady felt strong arms wrap around him and pull him back. The arms pulled him up, and it took Brady only a moment to realize that it was his father pulling him away from Chloe. Brady protested, reaching out both arms towards Chloe in vain.

"Still, son," John demanded, anger evident in his steel voice.

"Belle!" Brady yelled out to his sister to help Chloe as two guard hoisted her frail form off the ground. But Belle could not come to Chloe's rescue.

"Take her to the court square. You, get the boy," John commanded. The remaining guards nodded, continuing after Philip who was now almost out of sight. Brady struggled against his father's strong, sure grasp as he lifted him up over his shoulder like a common child who'd been caught doing wrong. "You've been very disrespectful, son. I am very disappointed in your behavior," John scolded as he carried his protesting son away, although a part of him was very proud of his son for having the boldness and caring to stand up for someone in need. "I only pray that you can forgive me one day," John added in near whisper.

"Let go!" Chloe screamed in vain as the guard seized her, hoisting her up by the arms. "Brady! Brady help me!" Chloe cried, trying desperately to reach out to her would -be savior. But Brady just watched in despair as she was carried away from him, horrified at what he knew awaited her….

END FLASHBACK

"… I found out later that Philip got away. Word was, he'd been found hours later wondering around aimlessly in the mountains," Brady explained. He'd kept his head down, his eyes on his hands resting on his knees, almost as if he was too ashamed to look her in the eye. "Philip got away… but I wasn't able to save you."

"I had forgotten," Chloe murmured, shaking her head in disbelief. She truly hadn't remembered Brady and Isabella coming to their rescue. Over time, memories of that day had started to become fuzzy. She still remembered the actual kidnaping and the slave auction in full detail as if it were yesterday. But, over time, memories of the Palace escape had faded. By now, she'd completely forgotten how her brother had escaped. She'd only known that he had while she had not. It was easier to live from day to day without having to remember her failed escape attempt, that last chance at freedom that had just slipped through her fingers.

"I searched everywhere for you," Brady continued, not really having heard her speak. He was too lost in the memories that had tortured his very existence for 13 long years. "Father didn't know, nor did he care to know, where you'd been sold. And I was only a boy of 11, so Paul Mendez Senior didn't feel obligated to share any kind of information with me. Even though I was a Prince, Mendez only answered to my father, and even then he was not to be trusted," Brady stated. It was now that he finally looked up, turning his saddened, deep blue eyes to her and gently taking her hand into his. "But, I couldn't give up. I felt too drawn to you to give in so easily. Be it guilt, or maybe something more, whatever it was, I had to find you. Isabella and I snuck out of the castle often after father let his guard down a bit. You see, for awhile after the kidnaping, father kept us pretty much under lock and key as punishment, never allowing us out and only letting servants and himself in. But when he let up, we started sneaking out to search for you ourselves. Izzy thought I was crazy… maybe I was. Many who attend the auctions don't even live in the city. But she agreed to help me none the less. We searched everywhere, the local market place, the docks, anywhere we could get access to, hoping to find even the smallest sign that you were still alive. As the years went by, I started to lose hope. Pointless searching for one child in a heavily populated, vast city was getting us no where."

So when I was 15, I broke into Mendez's store room, where he keeps all his records. Unfortunately, I got caught before I found anything of use. I covered, saying I was on official business… Mendez bought it, mostly out of fear of John's actions, but father did not. And he was not pleased. Even though he told me to give up the ridiculous notion of ever finding you, I started campaigning him, pleading with him to allow me to right his wrong. He wouldn't listen, of course. He was growing old and tired by this time… his sorrows taking full toll on him. He was so tired of fighting, and dealing with his own inner demons… I just couldn't get through to him. And then, when he was killed, and I had to assume the throne, my search for you got buried underneath all the mayhem that followed John's death. When I could, I'd go down to the Court Square and speak with Mendez. He stood by his agreement with my father to refuse any requests for information on you… more out of spite then actual loyalty to my father. The man was lower then dirt, but he was crafty -- he knew, legally, I couldn't seize his records without probable cause and he knew that I would never break any laws, for any reason. Besides, there was no guarantee that he even kept the records anyway. Knowing that I might discover the truth, he may have destroyed them, assuming such an unlawful transaction was even recorded in the first place," Brady explained. Chloe said not a word, allowing him to speak without interruption and allowing herself quiet time to absorb all he was saying.

"When Isabella died… I just gave up. Nothing mattered anymore. It was obvious to me that… I was just destined to lose everyone I cared about. So, I just gave up, believing that I was never meant to find you. I could be no one's savior. But then, one day, I was on my way to a council meeting when I received a telegram. Paul Mendez Sr. was summoning me to his home on the riverside. I was skeptical, but I went none the less. When I arrived, I found him in the darkened back room of his house, lying on his death bed. He was coughing violently, and it was evident from his babbling that he was out of his mind. But he had refused to cross over until his family summoned for me. I approached him, and he sat straight up and grabbed me by the shirt. I still remember that day. I thought the man was mad, and perhaps thought me to be someone who'd welched on a deal in the past. I was about to push him off me, when he uttered your name. He told me that he admired my life long search. He babbled on and on about what a horrid man he was, and how that now, before his death, he wished to right all the wrongs he'd committed. It's sad really, how it takes looking death in the eye to turn evil men good. Mendez told me that he'd confessed all his sins but one. He said he owed me an explanation. It was then he told me that you'd been sold to his son, Paul."

"I rushed out of the house, thanking him and his family without ever looking back. Mendez died that very afternoon, but I was busy elsewhere. I'd been given new hope. I rushed to the house which Faye shared with her two children, but when I nearly got there, I approached slowly, coming up with some story to explain why I was there. When I knocked on the door… a part of me prayed that you would answer. But, you were not to be found. Faye, seeing right though the excuse I had made up, politely explained that you and the other few slaves that Lord Paul had owned had been freed after his death during battle. She told me that the other slaves remained in touch, but that she had not heard a word from you since she gave you your freedom. I thanked her for her, and quickly left… I was devastated. God had finally been gracious enough to lead me to you, only for me to find out I was too late. You were gone, and my last hope of ever finding you was gone. I would never be able to make up for the sin I had committed in not being able to save you," Brady finished miserably. He released her hands again, shaking his head sadly and looking away. He couldn't look at her. It pained him too much. Chloe, seeing his despair, wouldn't allow him to go on one more moment feeling the way he did. She cupped her hand under his chin, gently forcing him to look back her way. Caressing his cheek with one hand, she took his right hand in her free hand, smiling at him reassuringly.

"Brady, it wasn't your fault. Even when I still remembered what happened, I never, ever blamed you. As I grew older, I think a part of me even stopped blaming your father. But I would have never thought less of you, even if I had remembered what happened. You were just a child. It wasn't your responsibility…"

"But I saved Philip," Brady interrupted, shying away from her gentle touch and standing abruptly from the couch. Holding his sheet around his waist, he made his way back to the window Chloe had been staring out earlier. "It was up to me to save you both, and I only saved Philip. He got to safety. I should have been able to get you to safety too. You deserved it more then he did, but he was the one who was spared that miserable life. And all because of me," Brady stated, self-loathing evident in his voice. Not a day went by that he didn't wish he could have done something different, wished he would have aided Chloe and not Philip in the first place. It should have been Philip that fell down the hill, sealing his doom and not Chloe's. John may have been the one that kidnaped Philip and Chloe, but Brady truly believed that it was he who'd damned Chloe to a life of slavery. She'd been faster, and Brady had foolishly let himself believe that she was safe. What a fool he'd been. As Brady saw it, it was probably his foolish over-confident thought that had caused disaster to strike. Chloe stood up, making her way over to Brady. She wrapped his arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder as he had done earlier for her.

"Brady… you can't blame yourself for what happened. If you hadn't done what you did, both Philip and I would have been taken."

"Philip should have been. Look at what he's become… no better then his father," Brady seethed. It pained him most to know that he had failed Chloe so that the spoiled brat Philip could grow up to be as miserable and heartless as Victor was.

"And what do you think would have happened to me if you had saved me instead?" Chloe asked. "Wouldn't I be just as cruel as the rest of the Kiriakis family?" Brady shook his head, turning to face her, her arms falling from around him to let him turn fully.

"No. No. You're different. No matter where you grew up, you would still be the beautiful, kind woman that I've fallen in love with. I know it," Brady stated. Chloe shook her head.

"I really don't think so Brady. If it had been me who'd escaped instead of Philip, then I would now be the ruler of Mucche, and Philip would be the one to grow up in slavery. I would be the one who became just like my family. As much as I'd like to deny it… if I had grown up with those people… it would have changed me. Growing up the way I did… it did change my view on life. But it did not make me cruel or heartless. Growing up Kiriakis royalty, that would have damned me," Chloe stated. "Brady… it's taken me a long time to come to terms with what happened, but I've realized that, as cruel as fate has been… destiny has molded all our lives the way it was meant to. If I hadn't been taken into slavery, if I had been saved… then I would never get to be here now, with you." Chloe smiled, and Brady returned that smile. She wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her close, caressing her cheek gently with the back of his hand.

"Oh Chloe… I love you so much," Brady whispered, all his fears and regrets being washed away the moment he laid eyes on that breath-taking smile.

"I love you too, Brady," Chloe returned, tilting her head up to allow his lips to capture hers. Their lips broke apart, his arms wrapping around her, and Chloe rested her head on his magnificent chest as they stayed in that embrace for a moment longer. But after a moment, Brady dropped his arms from around her and stepped back from her embrace.

"I have to go."

"Brady…"

"I have to go quickly. I have a war to stop," Brady stated, heading for the door.

"Brady, wait!" Chloe called before he could reach the door. "Don't you think you should at least put some pants on before you go stop a war?" Chloe said with a smirk. Brady looked down, surveying the sheet which served as clothing for him. He'd forgotten about that…

"Oh, uh, yeah… right." Brady stuttered, moving over to grab the clothing he'd discarded the night before in their passion. "Wait here for me, I have something that needs to be done. I'll come back for you shortly. While I'm gone, get dressed… there's somewhere I'd like to take you," Brady stated as he dropped the sheet and began to dress. Chloe almost didn't hear him, as she was far too lost in sight of him naked before he began to dress to concentrate on anything but the sight in front of her. "Chloe?"

"Huh? Oh! Yes. I'll be waiting for you," Chloe said, snapping back to her senses. Brady nodded, quickly buttoning up his shirt, not noticing he'd left a few unbuttoned and had put one or two buttons in the wrong hole. He stepped towards her to give her a quick but loving kiss, and then he was gone. Chloe stood their for a moment, thanking God in heaven for giving her this wonderful new life, before she too walked out the door, quickly darting into her room before she could be seen so she could dress in fresh clothing. Wherever Brady would be taking her would be special, because she would be with him, and she wanted to look nice for him when he returned. Brady rushed through the now eerily empty Palace hallways, greeting not a sole as he made his way towards the Throne Room and pausing only for a moment at Harold's room to grab three scrolls, quickly scrawling out a detailed but short message on each one of them. He pushed open the doors to find a bustle of people milling about, mostly all councilmen getting ready to leave the Palace to meet the troops which Brady was to lead out this morning.

"By God, look at you," Harold exclaimed as he caught sight of Brady. "What a mess! You look… oh… oh… does this mean…" Harold smiled, very pleased with the thought that had finally crossed his mind. Last Harold had seen of Brady, he was on his way, in the very clothing he wore now in fact, to meet "Arciana." Brady's disheveled "I'm wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday" and "I'm so happy I'm glowing" look could only mean one thing.

"Not now, Harold. Not enough time for that. Are the troops assembled?" Brady asked.

"Yes, of course Your Majesty. Every man of age is suited and ready, waiting for your orders. They're gathered in the field, Your Majesty." Harold answered.

"Good. Come with me then," Brady instructed, turning to head out of the Palace. He signaled for the other council members to follow him quickly, exiting the Palace without another word to anyone. He made his way towards the fields which lay behind the Palace where the many men assembled to depart for battle were waiting. The noisy mess came to an ear-shattering silence as their King approached them. Brady's Head General, a tall handsome man by the name of Rex, stepped forward, bowing his respect for his king.

"Your Majesty, we readily await your orders," Rex announced with his utmost respect.

"Thank you General," Brady replied. "Gentlemen, a word. Who among you considers themselves to be the fastest riders in the land?" Brady called out to the many soldiers who all stood at arms. They all looked at each other questioningly, wondering what their king could be getting at. They'd fought with him in many battles before, at least the most of them. Never before had their King opened a march with such a strange question.

"Your Majesty, there is not a man here who would not be the fastest rider if you so asked them to be. But if I may say, there are three among us who are honored greatly for their riding abilities," Rex stated respectfully, waving his hand at the three men which stood directly behind him. They all stepped forward, bowing their heads in respect to their king.

"Excellent," Brady stated, withdrawing the three scrolls and handing each rider a scroll. "Hold these for a moment, gentlemen. I have an announcement to make before I give you your orders." The men nodded respectfully. Brady stepped up to Rex's horse, mounting it so that all the many men would have better view of him as he made his announcement. He coaxed the horse in front of the large group of men, beginning to make a trek back and forth in front of them as he spoke in the loudest voice he could manage. "My people, there has been a change in plans. I wish to thank you for your willingness to serve me. You all are brave men, and should be commended not as mere soldiers, but as heroes for your dedication to your country," Brady spoke loud and clear. "Today, I was to lead you into battle. A battle that may have very well been our last. But that battle will not be taking place." Protests and hushed questions rang out amongst the men. Had their King gone mad? It had been he who had so passionately campaigned for war! "I can give no explanation to you right now. I haven't the time. The only thing I can offer you know is my promise that all will be revealed to you in time. Go now, back to your homes, back to your posts, or wherever it is you wish to go. But there will be no battle. Go home, my citizens, back to your families, and tell them that your King wishes this so. Tell them not to question my judgment, and tell them that my heart is with them always. Let the people know that I, your King, will explain all in good time, and that there will be peace at last in Nero, without any more bloodshed," Brady finished. He stopped his pacing, dismounting Rex's horse in front of the three men which had been chosen to deliver his messages.

"You heard your King. Depart!" Rex yelled his command. The men, confused, some angered, picked up their weapons, mounted their horses, and began to clear out. Though none of them understood what was going on, they all trusted their beloved King. Harold breathed a sigh of relief; he just knew Brady could find some way to avoid a war!

"I must ask a huge responsibility of you men. You, with the black scroll. You must ride as fast as you can to King Shawn's camp in the southern mountains. Find them, and deliver this message personally to King Shawn. You, with the red scroll. You must take that scroll as fast as you can into King Jason's camp. You should find them on the riverside. You must be most careful. Do not allow yourself to be spotted by the guards rumored to be watching the river. Find them and deliver this message personally to King Jason. And you, with the yellow scroll, you ride north and find King David's camp. Deliver that message to no one else but the King. They must receive these messages as quickly as possible. It is very urgent. I can not stress the importance of your mission. You are all to inform our allies that they must withdraw their forces. Inform them that the battle has been called off. Tell them to do whatever they wish with their troops, send them home or send them here, whatever they decide. But they are to withdraw immediately. These messages give them instruction to meet me here as soon as possible. Tell them that, and tell them to trust in my judgment. Make sure they know that all will be explained when they arrive in Nero."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the three messengers said in unison. Rex offered his horse, which was known to be one of the fastest horses in the land to the man who had to go the farthest, the one who had to find King Jason, while the other men mounted their own horses, their precious message cargo in tow. They each nodded to their King, promising to not let him down, before spurring their horses, and they were off.

"Thank you for your cooperation Rex. I have much to ask of you in a moment, if you are up to it."

"Anything you wish, Your Majesty. I will be pleased to oblige," Rex stated.

"Your Majesty…" one of the councilmen, who was utterly confused and demanding of answers approached Brady, but Brady brushed him aside, making his way over to Harold.

"Harold, I have something very important which I need you to handle……."


	9. Chapter 6 Part II

**Chapter Six Part II**

Philip awoke with a start, some unknown noise in the bustling castle yanking him from a peaceful sleep. Actually, one wouldn't describe it as peaceful. No, he hadn't had a peaceful night's sleep since the night before that horrendous day over 13 years ago. But at least last night, he had not dreamt. He'd merely been in what one might call a blissfully unconscious state. Philip wiped the groggy sleep from his eyes, perhaps giving sign to his young age, as he looked almost like a little sleepy-eyed child, whirling his head around curiously to observe his surroundings. He had unintentionally fallen asleep at the desk last night, Chloe's drawing of their mother still lain out in front of him. Philip sighed as he surveyed the dreary, almost bare room. It had been Chloe's room, since she was old enough to not require constant supervision. There were three doors in the room, one of course leading to the hallway, one to the bathroom, and the other led to the room which had been his as a child. That room was as bare as Chloe's room now, containing only a desk and sofa. After Chloe's kidnaping, when it become obvious that they were never going to find her, Kate and Victor had the room completely cleared out, moving all of Chloe's few possessions into storage. Kate, who had finally begun to show signs of having a heart, had said it was far too painful to have any reminder of her child near her. It was one of the last things Queen Katherine had done before locking herself away into a room as far away from the room she shared with Victor as she could get. Katherine blamed Victor for the loss her of her daughter, and Victor had almost completely disowned Katherine for her public reactions to Chloe's capture. So tensions were relieved once Katherine locked herself away, allowing only servants and her son to visit her. The only time Kate and Victor were seen together after that was during public announcements and events, although it was obvious to all in attendance the couple now despised each other.

The room had remained bare for nearly ten years, but when Victor was killed in battle and Philip became king, Philip placed the desk and sofa there, so he could visit the room and remember his sister. After the short ceremony which is customary when a new King is crowned, Philip went off by himself, going down into a storage room that hadn't seen the light of day in ten years. He rummaged through many of the boxes, looking for things to remind him of his beloved sister. None of the furniture really meant anything to him, and was of course made for a young girl child. But he found lots of sheet music and sketches which he took with him and placed in the new desk in Chloe's room. He'd also found a portrait of himself and Chloe at age six, which had been painted by the daughter of Mucche's richest citizen, not to mention highest donator to the royal treasury. But seeing those haunting sapphire eyes had been too much for him, so he left that painting in storage. Philip often visited the room, to recall the happier times of carefree youth when he was feeling depressed or troubled, and the babbling of his mother's fears that Chloe would never visit her were too much for him. Only once or twice though had he actually fallen asleep in the room. In a way, though he found the place to be often calming, it almost pained him to be around the constant memory of his long lost sister. And yet, he always came, as if to pay tribute to his sister's memory. Or as if he felt he deserved to suffer, because everyone believed it should have been him to go missing and not her. Philip sighed heavily, sensing that today would be a very long, challenge-filled day. He was rudely awakened from his troubled thoughts by a loud knock on the door.

"Your Majesty? A word with you?" It was Michael. Michael had grown accustomed to finding his king in Princess Chloe's old room whenever he went missing. Philip shot up from his seat, enraged, and jerked the door open.

"I've told you not to disturb me here!" Philip boomed. Philip didn't really care what was going on in the world. When he was in this place, no one was to disturb him. Especially now, he truly believed he didn't care if the entire kingdom fell to ruin.

"Beg your pardon, Your Majesty. Forgive my intrusion, but it seemed urgent enough," Michael stated. Philip rolled his eyes in a very unkingly fashion, stepping out of the room into the hallway, firmly closing the door.

"Everything is urgent to you," Philip stated smugly, brushing past Michael to begin walking down the main hall to the Throne Room. "Well, what is this 'urgent' news you bring me?" Philip asked impatiently. Michael sighed, shaking his head as he followed after his King, walking beside him. Such immature behavior for one who held such power…

"The guards spotted a foreign carriage nearing the castle late last night. The driver and it's female passenger were seized and brought into custody," Michael started.

"What concern is this of mine? I do not handle civil cases. That is for my council to handle," Philip interrupted.

"If you would allow me to continue, Your Majesty," Michael said, rather frustrated and annoyed. He never had to put up with these kind of things when Victor was King. "They were both Neroean; neither would state their names, but one of our general's recognized the girl as Lady Cynthia Banks, the daughter of one of King Brady's most esteemed, wealthy council members. Yet they both bare the mark of the rebellion. The girl, Lady Cynthia, is requesting consultation with you personally. She says she has important information from within the Black castle security, but she refuses to speak to anyone but you."

"Are you so incompetent that you can't handle a mere woman? Are you so incapable that you have to summon me to deal with her?" Philip asked.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, we are on the edge of what may be the largest battle Mucche has ever faced. Any information about our enemy we can obtain is of the highest importance. It could mean winning or losing the battle. If this girl traitor has any information that could be of use to us, then I believe the situation should be handled with extreme caution," Michael replied. Philip nodded in agreement.

"I do see your point, General. Alright, I will speak with her. Where is the girl now?"

"She and her male companion are awaiting your arrival in the Throne Room," Michael answered. Philip again nodded, and they continued on in silence towards the Throne Room. When they approached the Throne Room doors, two guards pulled open the double doors, bowing respectfully as their king passed. Since news of the alliance had reached Mucchean ears, security in the castle and around the city had doubled. Cynthia, her male driver, and the handful of guards all turned to watch as Philip entered the room soundlessly, silently swooping down into his throne as Michael took his place standing beside him. Philip stayed silent for a moment, his cold eyes boring into the intruders, surveying every inch of their stance, judging them with his eyes. Cynthia lowered her head, dropping her gaze to the floor and losing a bit of her 'no fear' attitude. She didn't like those eyes. They were so hollow and wild, like the eyes of a mad man. Above all, they were nerve-shattering. Even if Philip himself was a lousy King, he could probably intimidate weaker enemies just with those disturbing eyes.

"What business do you have here?" Philip finally asked, breaking the eerie silence which had enveloped the room.

"Your Majesty, forgive our rude intrusion. We… or rather I, wish to have a word with you, in private if you will," Cynthia replied, pushing back her slight nervousness and eyeing the guards disdainfully.

"Whatever you have to say to me, dear lady, can be said in front of these men," Philip said, adding a note of sarcasm to his voice at the 'dear lady' part. Cynthia nodded respectfully; it didn't really matter to her either way, as long as he was there to listen to what she had to say. "State your business and then be gone. I have no time for this. What exactly do you wish to accomplish, that you would risk your lives by coming into Mucchean territory when we know full well that you are Neroean?"

"I have some information which may be of interest to you, Your Majesty. It is of the utmost importance to you personally I believe, regarding a young woman who has recently been brought into King Brady's Palace," Cynthia replied. Philip sat up a bit straighter, his attention thoroughly grabbed by Cynthia's lure. He hadn't thought of Brady's mystery woman since he'd received word of the alliance, though she had so greatly caught his attention from the start. Cynthia noticed the change in his stance, and was pleased. "You seem intrigued, Your Majesty. Have you heard of the woman?"

"I have my source's. I know of the woman, just as I know you are Lady Cynthia Banks," Philip replied.

"Very perceptive of you. You know my name, although that really isn't too hard to figure out if you know your enemy well enough. But, do you know the slave girl's name?"

"I tire of this. Speak your case and leave me be. I have many more important things to attend to," Philip said wearily, growing both bored and annoyed. Why couldn't people just get to the bloody point?

"A King must also have patience, if I may say so Your Majesty," Cynthia stated with fake respect. "The girl, she is very important. Much more important then I first thought when I laid eyes on her. I believe she is a key factor in King Brady's plans against you. But I think it's only fair to you that you know about this girl. You should have known first, actually, I believe."

"What are you getting at?" Philip asked wearily.

"Patience m'lord, I will get to my point, rest assured," Cynthia promised. She loved stringing people along, but she knew her limits. And in this case, it would not be wise to beat around the bush too much. "But first, for you to understand, you must allow me to explain a bit about the girl. I promise you, I would not come to you with this information if I didn't think it was of importance to you. You must trust me. The girl is a slave, but has not always been so. About thirteen years ago, she was first sold into slavery… into a Neroean family by the name of Mendez. You see, the poor girl was stolen from her home and sold to the auctioneer's son." By now, there was a growing sense of dread forming in the pit of Philip's stomach, the wheels beginning to turn in his troubled mind. "She was…"

"Stop! I will hear no more of this. I will not fall for any Neroean trap. King Brady was a fool to send you. You of all people are not to be trusted. You belong to his council. Not a word that comes out of your mouth is of any truth! Guards, remove this snake from my sight!" Philip ordered. No, he wouldn't hear any more. Whatever she had wished to accomplish, he would not allow her. The guards stepped forward to seize Cynthia, but it was Michael who bid them wait with a wave of his hand.

"Wait. Your Majesty, I bid you listen to what this girl has to say. I have a feeling about her. I do not believe she was sent by King Brady." Michael stated.

"No. I will not have this girl in my court any longer," Philip insisted.

"Well if you will not, then I bid you allow me to have council with the girl," Michael insisted, stepping down from his place beside his king and advancing towards Cynthia.

"No!" Philip boomed. "Fine, Michael, I will listen to this wench's words. But mind you, General… if her words lead us into turmoil, it will be on your head." Michael bowed his head in agreement. He had a feeling what the girl had to say was of importance. Though he felt a bit of unease about her, he felt she had information they needed to hear. "You may continue, Lady Cynthia," Philip said, again stressing the word 'lady' as if to mock her title.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. And, thank you, sir," Cynthia said, addressing Michael, although she did not care that he had interceded and kept her from being thrown out. She would have just used her 'insurance' to keep Philip's attention. "As I was saying… the slave girl was released a year ago when her master died, only to be captured again a few days ago during a raid on Rubino. Luckily for her, she was taken in by King Brady and brought to the Palace. During her stay, I became suspicious of the girl. As you know, I do not truly support the Black family reign over Nero. I am on your side."

"The Rebels are on nobody's side but their own," Philip stated wearily.

"Perhaps you are right. Perhaps then should I be gone, and leave you totally in the dark, just waiting for the alliance to pounce on you like a wolf on its defenseless prey," Cynthia stated, now knowing that Michael wouldn't allow her to leave, turning away from Philip like she was making a move to escort herself out of the Palace.

"No, wait," Michael called. "Please, Your Majesty, humor the girl, I beg of you." Philip sighed heavily, wanting nothing more than for Michael to shut the hell up and this girl leave him be in his ignorance. For him, perhaps ignorance had been bliss.

"Please do not be offended, Lady Cynthia. I ask you to stay. Just do not assume that I am convinced you pledge any alliance to myself and my kingdom," Philip stated. Cynthia hid her delight inside, not showing any sign of her triumph on her face when she turned to face Philip once again.

"I do understand that, Your Majesty. After all, a man such as yourself is not at liberty to be completely trusting of a stranger. If I may continue, Your Majesty?" Cynthia asked. Philip waved his hand for her to continue, dreading every word that was to come out of her mouth. "One might think a mere slave girl to be of the least importance in these times, but I have an eye for significant details in every day life, as I believe you do also. You seemed so intrigued by the girl, yet you know nothing about her. I felt the same. I knew something wasn't right about her. So, I began to investigate the girl. I found out not only that she had been a Neroean slave in years past, I found her owners, and went to them personally to inquire more about the girl's life. Her Master's son, now Lord Brandon Mendez, gave her the name Arciana, but as you may have already guessed, that is by far not the girl's true name. Brandon was taken into her confidence, and was not at liberty to tell me anything about the girl, but his sister was more than happy to assist me in my journey for knowledge."

"Does this story have an end any time soon, Lady Cynthia?" Philip asked impatiently.

"It would have ended sooner if you would stop interrupting me," Cynthia replied, showing she really had no respect for those of higher status in life then she. "The short version is, this girl may have been raised in Nero since she was but a girl of eight, but she is definitely not Neroean. She is, in fact, from Mucche. She actually came from a very crucial family in Mucche. One might say, they are the single most important family within the entire country. Are you catching my drift, Your Majesty, or do I need to be completely blunt and spell it out for you?" Cynthia asked impudently. Philip shook his head, refusing to allow her words to sink in. He stood, still shaking his head, turning his back to her and to the side of his throne, almost behind it.

"No, Lady Cynthia, you have made yourself quite clear. Clear that you are a revolting charlatan and that your only purpose is to deceive and destroy. Guards, take this woman from my court. Dump her on the side of the road for all I care, but see to it she is not allowed near my Palace." Philip ordered. No. His sister was dead. She had been dead to his family for thirteen years, and there would be no resurrection for his departed twin. Even if Chloe was alive, he would never, ever accept that she would allow herself to be taken into the House of Black, under the control of the son of the very man who had torn her from her family so many dreadful years ago. The guards hustled forward to seize the offensive wench who had angered their king. Cynthia merely smiled, brushing them off as she pulled out a sheet of paper from her blouse which the guards had failed to notice.

"I feared you would have trouble accepting the information I bring you, Your Majesty. So, I brought this to back my claims. I believe it will bare all the proof you need," Cynthia stated. Philip refused to take the paper from the wretches hands, he would not even face her. He allowed the guards to take hold of Cynthia's arm and shoulder, her right arm still extended slightly, holding the folded paper that was just begging to be taken. Philip moved back to collapse in his throne, head down so as to still not see the vile temptress that had brought his entire world to ruin. But Michael, always with a desire to know beyond face value, came forward, snatching the paper from Cynthia's hand, nodding for the guards to hold her there. Michael unfolded the paper, viewing it curiously.

"It's a drawing, Your Majesty," Michael announced. Philip, who was slumped down in his seat, his two front fingers resting on the pressure point in his head as he now had an excruciating headache, perked up a bit. Not curiously or happily, mind you, but with a tormented recognition.

"Let me see that," Philip ordered. Michael obliged, bringing the drawing to his King's waiting hands. Before departing Nero, after she had arranged to give Faye the money for Nicole's promised release, Cynthia had asked her male companion, Kevin, to search Chloe's room for some physical evidence of her true identity. She knew Philip wouldn't believe her. Even if he was as laughable and thick as everyone made him out to be, he wouldn't believe such a seemingly impossible event, especially if he preferred living in denial. The only thing Kevin had found in the short amount of time he had to search the room freely besides her clothing and a few other trinkets was a couple of drawings. He'd left the drawing of Brady at the slave market, knowing it would not be of any help. Instead, he took the second one, an unfinished drawing of two children. Cynthia had been pleased; it didn't matter if the children were Chloe and Philip. Philip would believe they were. Cynthia knew of Chloe's reputation as a child prodigy artist. She'd researched Mucche well. She knew Philip, even after thirteen years, would recognize his sister's style, though there had been no signature on the piece. Philip surveyed the drawing with a certain sadness. The picture was obviously unfinished, and yet, even though it had been thirteen long years, he knew it was his beloved long lost sister's style; only the hands of his twin sister Chloe could have created this piece. The faces of the playing children were left blank, and the features of the land around them were sketchy, but he knew the scene well. He had played it over and over in his mind for thirteen years. The picture was of him and Chloe, playing together in the courtyard, perhaps just seconds before their lives were ripped apart by King John's Royal Guard. Philip ran his thumb lightly over the girl's dress… the dress Chloe had been wearing the last time he saw her. "Chloe," Philip whispered, though inaudible to those around him. "Release her," Philip commanded quietly.

"But Your Majesty, you said…"

"I said release her!" Philip roared angrily at his insolent guards. They complied immediately, releasing their grasp on both Cynthia and Kevin, who had not said a word since their arrival. "Your friend may go as he pleases. Stay here or go if you like. But you, Lady Cynthia, I wish to have a word with in private."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Your Majesty," Cynthia stated, making no attempt to hide her pleasure.

"You are all dismissed. Michael, see that Lady Cynthia's male escort is attended to," Philip instructed, standing and approaching Cynthia, taking her arm to lead her away with him.

"Yes, Your Majesty." The guards and Michael bowed their heads respectfully, the guards quickly departing back to their posts as Philip led Cynthia away towards the courtyard.

"Tell me more," Philip asked of Cynthia once they had reached the courtyard, the bright early morning sun beating down gently on them.

"What do you wish to know, m'lord," Cynthia asked with an air of fake politeness.

"How is she? Is she safe, is she healthy? Do you know why she has not made contact with me?" Philip asked. "And most importantly… what is she doing with Brady Black? Has he harmed her, or is she there willingly?"

"Willingly, I'm afraid, Your Majesty. King Brady offered her her freedom, but she has stayed with him despite his offering to even supply escort out of Nero for her. I do not know anything about her motives for not contacting you, that only she knows I suppose. But as for her health, she is alive and well, completely unharmed… at least physically."

"What do you mean?" Philip asked curiously, though he was still floored from the news that his sister was not only alive, but willingly living under the roof of their sworn enemy.

"Well, of course she is emotionally scared, Your Majesty. The terror of what happened to her would frighten anyone, and she was just recently given reminder to that terror when she was captured again in the raid on Rubino. You can imagine the emotional trauma caused by newly acquired freedom being ripped away so quickly," Cynthia explained. Philip nodded slowly, processing her statements. They were both standing alone on the stone staircase of the Courtyard now. He turned away, gazing out over the empty, lonely Courtyard, remembering that this was the last place they had been together, before their world was shattered.

"Why do you bring me this news? You are a rebel from Nero, and yet I know full well the rebellion, though supportive, cares nothing for Mucche and her people. So, why have you come here?" Philip asked, still not facing Cynthia.

"Because, I hate the Black family as much as you do. Particularly Brady Black," Cynthia answered honestly. "I came, because I believe you of all people, Chloe's only living relative, should know the whereabouts of your own twin sister. You are right to say I care nothing for Mucche. What I care about, is seeing those who cross me pay for their infidelities. Bringing justice to wrong doers, if you will."

"And what exactly do you think you will accomplish here? Obviously you came with a specific purpose in mind. What exactly do you expect me to do?" Philip asked, his back still to Cynthia. Cynthia approached him, boldly placing her hands on his shoulder and around his neck from behind, much in a manner that Jan would, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I believe I can help you seek your revenge as well," Cynthia cooed seductively. "I wish to advise you. It is no secret within the royalty of Nero that Brady has fallen in love with your beautiful sister Chloe. It is also no secret that Chloe returns his love." Philip closed his eyes, suppressing the rage of betrayal that was building up inside him. His own sister! Siding with him, though Philip had done nothing wrong to her, and yet Brady and his father had done so much to harm their family. "I do not think this should be allowed. Brady Black wronged you when he killed your father and your brothers. His father wronged you when he took your innocent sister from you. You've lived your whole life not knowing if she was alive, because of their family. Brady does not deserve this happiness. You and I both feel that way. I'm here to help you get the vengeance you so rightly deserve."

"What do you suggest I do?" Philip asked, falling under her seductive spell of deceit. Yes, he was as easy to rule as any other man.

"I believe they will come to you," Cynthia stated. As she had planned, she was certain that once Chloe knew that she knew her true identity, she would go to Brady. Chloe was far too in love with Brady to leave him, and he was too much in love with her to send her away. Cynthia had no doubt that the goody-goody King Brady would approach Philip, with Chloe happily and willingly at his side. "When they do, you must send them away. No matter what they say, you must send them both away. You must disown Chloe as your sister, claiming no sister of yours would have anything to do with a Black."

"I can't do that," Philip protested. He wasn't strong enough. Though he hated her for being the one their parents loved, though he hated her for betraying him, he still loved her dearly. She was all he had now; even if she would choose a Black over him. He still needed her.

"You must. It is the only way. I will be beside you to guide you. Do as I ask of you. Wait for them to come to you. Then we can go from there. I promise you, this is the best and only way." Philip sighed heavily, lowering his head sadly.

"I will do ask as you ask," Philip stated despairingly, detangling himself from Cynthia's arms. "I wish to be alone now with my thoughts. I have much which I have to consider. I will inform my servants to set you and your male companion up in rooms of your own and tend to your needs. I will call upon you when I am ready to talk more with you," Philip said, turning on his heels to trudge back into the Palace. And Cynthia watched as the defeated man made his sad, lonely way back inside, a satisfied grin on her beautiful, yet hauntingly evil face…….

Shawn's troops trudged along, making their way through the rocky mountain side. They'd left their camp at first light, and would soon be arriving at their next camp to await the battle that would take place the next morning. So many men had jumped at the chance to join the army when Shawn had made his public announcement concerning the alliance that the entire country's militia armory had been exhausted, and personal tools and weapons had to be brought in. Every available horse had been taken along, some even had to be donated by private owners, and yet still hundreds of men were on foot. A group of twenty-five men, known for their excellent hunting and tracking skills, had been sent ahead as a search party to scope the area for Mucchean troops, and would already be waiting for their fellow soldiers at the next campsite. The large army, which consisted of over one-hundred men on horseback and two-hundred men on foot, was spread out; twenty-five men as a search party far ahead, fifty-some-odd men on horseback and one-hundred-some-odd footmen with King Shawn's party, and then the rest a mile back, with the majority of the harder to transport artillery.

Shawn had been so impressed with the amount of people who had cried out in total support of the alliance at the public announcement yesterday. He believed that perhaps the citizens of Rubino were just so pleased their King was finally leading them again that they would follow him anywhere. Even some of the women had been recruited, though mostly as nurses. But a few would be fighting alongside their male companions.

Jason had sent word to Shawn that many of his people had extremely mixed feelings about the battle. So mixed, in fact, that many of those who had a choice whether they went to Mucche to fight actually refused. Jason's numbers were so low, Shawn had sent a number of his troops and resources to assist the Supervisore army, so there would be no weakness in their surrounding of Mucche. Shawn was not feeling particularly nervous about the impending battle. He had the fears any King would have. "How many men will be forced to give their lives tomorrow?" "Will this truly be the end of this bloody war?" "Will the Muccheans know of our attack and be prepared?" All these thoughts raced through Shawn's mind, but he didn't let them bother him. For starters, he was not concerned with his troops. Not a man among them wasn't willing to die for what they believed in, though Shawn did fear for their families back home should some ill fate befall their husbands, sons, and fathers. Like Brady had confided, he almost felt that there was… something out there, something that would see to it this unified attack on Mucche would not take place, at least not as any of them would have suspected. As much as he had always wanted to believe that many of Brady's tales of sensing his mother's spirit were totally imaginary, he knew such mystical happenings were possible. He himself had often heard his departed mother's soothing voice in his dreams, not in the dream, but as if she were really there beside him, tucking him in at night as she had done so many nights when he was young. In times of distress, he could almost swear he felt his father's comforting hand on his shoulder as he would assure him everything would be alright, so Shawn did believe in a sense beyond their understanding. And this time, Shawn sensed that there would be no battle between Mucche and Nero's allies; at least, not a physical pursuit of war. He almost felt as if, though it might have been wishful thinking, that that was all behind them now.

"Ho! King Shawn!" A loud cry from a distant hillside broke above the noises of men's feet and horse hooves hitting the mud and rocks as they trudged along. Shawn jerked his head up to see the lone rider, his horse sporting the colors of Nero, standing on a hill off to the army's right. The man began to descend the hill, and the large number of troops, all knowing the man was a friend and not a foe, began to split apart, giving the man passage to their King. The solider made his way through the crowd, stopping in front of the guards around King Shawn.

"What news do you bring us solider?" Shawn asked.

"A message from King Brady, Your Majesty," the solider replied respectfully, dismounting his horse. He withdrew the scroll tied with black ribbon that Brady had given to him from a satchel on his horse's back and handed it to Shawn's head guard, who promptly handed it up to Shawn on his horse. Shawn unrolled the scroll, reading over the message written by his friend quickly.

"What is the meaning of this, solider?" Shawn asked curiously.

"I do not know, Your Majesty. I know only that King Brady summoned his fastest riders to get a message to the three Kings of the Alliance. Our King has informed me to ask you to hold your troops. He wishes for you to call off the attack. King Brady asked that you station your troops in a secure location. Send them home or send them to the borders of Nero, just so long as you withdraw your camp from the mountains. King Brady wishes for you, King Jason, and King David to report to his castle as soon as possible, so that he can further explain the situation," the solider explained. Shawn still seemed questioning. Why would Brady call off the attack so suddenly? "I have been asked to tell you to trust in King Brady. I assure you, he would not do this if he did not have good reason. It takes time and effort to gather your troops, and King Brady would not wish that lost if not for a sound purpose."

"If Brady has found a way to resolve this war without physical conflict, then of course I trust him. Gabriel," Shawn regarded his Head Guard.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Gabriel, who was on horseback to Shawn's left.

"I want you to announce to the men here that the attack has been postponed. There is a cave formation up ahead, take the men there. The horses can be kept inside the caves, and the area around it is shielded from view from the mountain pass. Have the men set up camp there and await my commands. Send a rider to the troops to the rear and the fastest horse to the search party ahead. Have the search party come back around here to the caves, and station the others back in the mountains on the Mucchean border. You should have plenty of provisions to last until I return with further instructions," Shawn ordered.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Gabriel replied, bowing his head in acceptance of his orders.

"You, solider. I would like you to accompany me back to Nero."

"Of course, Your Majesty. It is my honor," the solider replied. As most Neroean people did, he had a high respect for King Shawn, as well as King Jason and King David, though they knew less of David. He mounted his horse again, waiting for Shawn to give him further order.

"Thank you, solider. Gabriel, you have my orders. I leave you in command of the men. I'll send word for further instruction as I learn more," Shawn stated. He nodded his head to the Neroean solider, grabbing the reins of his horse. He knew his council would not approve of his traveling with only one escort, but more men would slow them down. Shawn wanted to get to Nero as quickly as possible. He knew Brady wouldn't call off the battle without good reason, as it had been he who'd first called for the attack. Shawn had every intention of finding out that reason as soon as humanly possible. Shawn and the solider both started off at full gallop, breaking through the puzzled crowd to continue back up the hillside which the solider had come from. The many soldiers watched as their King disappeared out of sight, leaving only Gabriel and the men close enough to hear the messengers announcement to assure them that Shawn had not abandoned them again, and that their King was doing everything within his power to insure their safety.

Elsewhere, King David was receiving a similar visit from another Neroean solider. He too mounted his horse after leaving order for his men to turn back into neutral territory and camp in a secure location. He and his daughter Miriam, who had rebelled against her father's orders to remain home in Arcadia and had come along to serve as her father's escort, set out with the solider to return to Nero, so they too could be informed of Brady's purpose. Jason would also soon receive his notice, but would be the last to set off for Nero. Because of his vulnerable location on the riverside, Jason had to turn his troops around and backtrack to station them on the welcoming border of Rubino before he could set out for Nero. But, no matter how long it took, all three leaders would be in Nero by late that night……

Chloe finished the last stroke of her hair, placing the hairbrush down on her vanity next to the pink glass figurine and purple teddy bear, picking up a rose pin to put in her hair. She'd opted to leave her hair down, and was wearing another of the dresses Harold had picked out for her. It was a midnight blue dress that hugged the hips, unlike the majority of her other dresses, and flowed down evenly, stopping at her ankles in a manner that would not allow the dress to drag on the ground. She had hoped she would be wearing the dress she had made herself by now, but she had not had the time to finish the garment since so much had been happening to her. But, that didn't bother her, because every moment had been spent with Brady. And that's exactly where she wanted to spend every moment of her life thereafter.

Chloe smiled at her reflection in the mirror after she secured the matching blue rose pin in her hair. Her face had a certain glow about it, which she had never before seen. For one of the first times, Chloe no longer had to cringe when she looked in a mirror. She could gladly say she was proud to be who she was. It wouldn't even have mattered if her face was still as scarred and tarnished as it had once been. Brady loved her, no matter who she was, or what she looked like. There was a knock on the door, and without answering it, Chloe knew it was him. She stood from her vanity, opened the door, and immediately Brady had his arms wrapped around her, tasting her lips yet again. Such a surprising, out of the blue show of affection once would have frightened her. But now, she welcomed it with open arms, and could only pray the affections would continue.

"You look beautiful," Brady said when they finally broke apart. He too was now dressed in fresh clothing. He was dressed in a casual ensemble that consisted of a dark blue dress shirt similar to his favored white one with a black vest, and black leather pants. Both had summoned for a quick bath, each wanting to hurry back to the other's side. "Though, I must say… I rather preferred you without the dress." Chloe laughed, blushing slightly as she raised her arms to place them around his neck. Some things would take a little getting used to…

"If I recall, it was you who told me to get dressed," Chloe pointed out.

"Mmmm… my mistake," Brady returned, bending his head to place soft kisses on her neck. Chloe laughed, more of a light airy giggle, his lips tickling her flesh in a most sensuous way.

"Brady," Chloe laughed. Their playful teasing was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat in the hall. Brady had stepped all the way inside the room now, but had forgotten to close the door… or merely had just not realized Harold would be back so soon.

"Ahem," Harold cleared his throat, though if it had been up to him, he would not have disturbed the two lovers, at least right away. After all, the entire country had been waiting years for Brady to fall in love, or at least find someone he could grow to love. "Forgive my intrusion, Your Majesty, but I have prepared for your morning as you have asked."

"Everything that I asked?" Brady asked. He'd turned his head to face Harold, but his arms were still wrapped around Chloe's waist.

"Yes, _everything_, Your Majesty," Harold replied with a knowing stress on the word everything.

"Good," Brady said, turning his head to face Chloe. "Shall we retire to breakfast then my love?" Chloe nodded. She would have been a little suspicious of Harold's tone had she not been too busy reeling from Brady referring to her as 'his love.'

"Sounds wonderful," Chloe replied.

"Let us be off then," Brady said, unwrapping his arms from Chloe and taking her by the hand, leading her into the hall. Chloe shut the door behind them as Brady clasped Harold's shoulder with his free hand. "Thank you for arranging _every_ detail of our breakfast, my friend."

"Was my pleasure, Your Majesty," Harold replied, flashing a knowing smile in Chloe's direction, much to Chloe's confusion. When Chloe turned her head away from Harold's sight to gaze down towards the end of the hall, Harold gave Brady a wink.

"Wish me luck," Brady mouthed wordlessly.

"You don't need it," Harold mouthed in return with a proud smile. Brady turned to lead Chloe down the hallway, heading towards the courtyard entrance. The castle was returning back to its usual state, still bustling with activity, but not full of soldiers and with the certain tension that accompanied preparing for battle. The faces they met along the way were no longer unfamiliar, serious faces, but more welcoming signs of familiarity and contentment. About halfway between the royal chambers and the courtyard entrance, Brady abruptly pulled Chloe to a stop.

"Wait a moment," Brady said, pulling out a black handkerchief that would serve to be a blindfold.

"Brady, what are you…"

"It's a surprise," Brady replied. "Don't you trust me?"

"You know I do," Chloe replied with a small smile. Brady too smiled, reaching up to tie the handkerchief around Chloe's eyes, tying it behind her head over her long flowing hair.

"That too tight?" Brady asked. Chloe shook her head.

"No, it's fine. Although I still don't get…"

"Trust me, it'll be worth it. Just humor me," Brady interrupted, waving his hand in front of Chloe's face to ensure she couldn't see through the black material.

"Alright, Brady… just don't lead me into any bottomless pits or lead me in front of a huge crowd of people just so they can laugh at me," Chloe teased. Brady laughed, taking her by the hand and upper arm.

"I promise. King's honor," Brady replied, beginning to lead Chloe slowly down the hallways, beginning again towards the courtyard. They passed many servants and council members, all of whom greeted their King with cheerful smiles. Not just because they were all glad that their friends and relatives did not have to go off to war, but because even they could see that their King was happier then he'd ever been. They could all see that their King was in love. Brady and Chloe continued on down the hallways, Brady helping Chloe down the few stairways and down the courtyard steps. Brady first led Chloe around the entire courtyard, making her think they were going further then they actually were. He then turned towards the gardens, heading down a path which he had not gone down in over three years. He led her around rose bushes, extravagant trees and flower patches, towards a large area of the garden that was completely shrouded, at least from the sides, by beautiful wispy willow trees and muscadine and honey suckle bushes.

"Brady, where are we going? I'm tired of walking around blindly," Chloe complained.

"Just a few more steps," Brady assured. He walked her over to the naturally blocked off area, pulling back a branch to allow them entrance. "Watch your head," Brady advised, placing his hand over her head to keep her from bumping into a branch. Chloe ducked her head obediently, now hearing the slow rush of a stream. She'd known they were outside for quite some time, but she hadn't heard any water until just now. Brady led her into the fair sized clearing. It was naturally shrouded on one side, but a stone wall which curved into a large semi-circle had been built along the other side, and a few bushes and plants had to be planted to complete the alienation of the area from the rest of the garden. Queen Isabella had ordered it done, so she would have a place to bring her son to play that was away from all prying eyes, and a place where she could go with her husband where they were not a King and Queen, but just a man and his wife.

A man made stream which had been there even before Queen Isabella's orders to seclude the area, flowed along the wall. Anyone who knew the gardens knew that the stream had been made to irrigate the gardens, and that it flowed through key points in the garden, emptying into a ditch that carried all the castle waste water away. Flowers and roses, all of Queen Isabella's favorites, grew in the clearing, and there was a fair-sized patch of fresh cut grass that was perfect for wrestling with one's sister. Large clean-cut rocks which served as a place for one or two people to sit and survey the beautiful sight were also placed at one end of the clearing.

The wonderful scent of honey suckle filled the air, and a huge blanket had been lain out on the ground beside the stream. On the blanket, an extravagant display of fruits, grains, and breakfast meats, all laid out in open platters except one silvery platter which was covered with a dome-like lid, was spread out for their breakfast. Brady stood Chloe in the center of the clearing where she would have the fullest view of the entire surroundings, and reached up to remove her blindfold. When the blindfold was dropped, Chloe was allowed to survey the clearing which she had never noticed before since it was in the very back corner of the garden boundaries. She was in complete awe; she had thought nothing could top the many beautiful sights she had seen thus far in Brady's kingdom, but this one came quite close.

"Brady, this place is extraordinary. What a wonderful surprise!" Chloe exclaimed.

"This is only half the surprise," Brady promised. "Here, lets sit," Brady suggested, taking her hand and leading her over to the large blanket. Besides the array of varying foods was a clear spot on the patchwork blanket where they could sit without the stream splashing them. Brady helped Chloe settle down on the blanket, before settling down beside her, he on the side closest to the stream.

"This really is wonderful Brady. You never cease to amaze me," Chloe stated. Brady smiled slyly, nodding towards the trees and flowers.

"Its just fortunate enough for us that my ancestor's preferred to concentrate on keeping the lands of Nero fertile and prosperous rather than focus solely on war. Through everything, we always seemed to find time to focus on the smaller, more enjoyable attributes of life," Brady replied. "My father always taught me to be proud of my heritage, and to keep traditions alive. The original peoples of Nero concentrated much of their efforts on providing food and surrounding themselves with pleasing sights."

"And then we came along," Chloe sighed sadly, turning her eyes away from Brady. She hated that she always let her pessimistic "always looking for the catch" side get the best of her. Very rarely would anything good happen to her; and when something actually went right, her subconscious always pointed out the bad qualities of a good event rather then allowing her to just enjoy the happy time. Brady sighed, shaking his head. How long would it take for her to stop beating herself up for things she had nothing to do with?

"Chloe…" Brady started, wrapping an arm around her. He wanted this day, well all of her days from here on out, but especially this day, to be perfect for her. No bad thoughts, only positive emotions. "When are you going to realize that none of that has anything to do with you? Being born into a certain family does not make you who you are. You may have been born into a family who has a reputation for being… less than honorable. But, you are your own person. I don't know what you see when you look at yourself in the mirror, but do you know what I see when I look at you?" Brady asked.

"What do you see Brady?"

"I see… a beautiful, kind woman with enchanting blue eyes that anyone would be content to be lost in. A young woman who, despite how fate has treated her, cares for others more then she cares about herself. When I look at you, I thank God that I'm allowed to even be in your presence," Brady replied honestly. Chloe turned in his embrace to face him, a look of gratefulness and bewilderment in her eyes.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Chloe asked. Brady smiled slyly, causing Chloe to grin as well.

"I could ask the same question," Brady replied, leaning forward to capture her delicious lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Brady still had a devious smile on his face when they broke apart. "You know, if we don't eat this food soon, the birds and squirrels are going to find their way here and steal it from under our noses." Chloe smirked, unraveling herself from his arms and pretending to shy away from him a bit.

"Which would you rather have, the food, or me?" Chloe asked playfully. Brady laughed, pulling her back to him with a grin.

"You, my love, definitely you," Brady replied. "But if I do not have food, then I will not possess the energy to _have_ you," Brady teased. Chloe giggled, squirming to get out of his grasp as he placed tickling kisses on her neck.

"Brady! Don't do that, I'm ticklish!" Chloe squealed. Brady grinned evilly, firming his grip on her so she couldn't get away from him.

"That, is very, very good to know," Brady stated with fake menace, placing more kisses on her sensitive neck and shoulders.

"Brady! You let go of me this instant!" Chloe demanded through her laughter, though she truly hadn't a care in the world if his arms never left from around her. She would be happy if they never did.

"Alright, alright. If you promise not to pout about me wanting to eat," Brady stated.

"I promise." Chloe replied like an obedient little child, who had a streak of sarcasm in them. Brady let her go, scooting back a bit on the blanket.

"Good. Now, let's eat." Brady said. He picked up a piece of toasted wheat bread, and a knife which Harold had placed along with the food, and began to put jam on the toast. "I hope you're a raspberry kind of person. All I could find at the market place yesterday was strawberry, but my all time favorite is raspberry."

"I've never had raspberry jam," Chloe confessed. A slave eats whatever they can manage to get hold of. And even as a free woman, she usually didn't have such luxuries on a seamstress' salary.

"What! That's sinful!" Brady replied, causing Chloe to laugh.

"Well, I'm sorry if I don't fit to your raspberry obsession, Brady, but I'm not that adventurous of a person." Chloe said.

"Now that's something we are going to have to remedy," Brady stated matter-of-factly. "Here. Try it," Brady said, holding up the jam covered toast to Chloe's lips. Chloe complied, allowing him to feed her; she took a huge bite, getting raspberry jam on her face, but was instantly in heaven.

"Mmmm… that is so good," Chloe muffled through her chewing. Brady chuckled, taking a bit out of the toast himself.

"Told ya," Brady returned through his own chewing. They both laughed as they locked eyes; they both looked like little messy kids at the dinner table. Chloe reached up to brush some crumbs off of Brady's shirt, while Brady wiped a bit of raspberry jam off the corner of Chloe's mouth. "You know, there's a better way to do this."

"And what's that?" Chloe asked. Brady grinned, bending down and planting his lips on hers, intending to kiss the jam off her face.

"Yum. Now that's delicious," Brady stated when he was done. He and Chloe both shared a laugh, each just so delighted to be with the other. They didn't feel like they had to be serious in any way with the other. It felt so good, to both of them, just to laugh, really truly laugh. Chloe picked up a plum to eat next, while Brady picked up a piece of peeled orange.

"So… where is the next half of the surprise you promised?" Chloe asked curiously.

"All in due time, love. All in due time," Brady replied.

"Brady, have you always been so…"

"Charmingly enigmatic?"

"I was going to say so much of a pain in the ass," Chloe teased.

"Oh, well in that case… yes. It's what I live for," Brady replied with a smile. Chloe elbowed him playfully, shaking her head. "What? A King doesn't get much normal life excitement. I have to have something to live for."

"Whatever you say," Chloe laughed. She finished her plum, and was looking for the knife to have another piece of the delicious toast with raspberry jam when she noticed the only covered bowl on the whole blanket. It had a decorative dome-like lid, and it stuck out ominously, like a sore thumb. All the other bowls had intentionally had their lids removed before they arrived. Why was this one different? "Brady, what's this?" Chloe asked, reaching for the bowl.

"No!" Brady panicked, grabbing for the bowl before she could get her hands on it. "Not this. You can't see this yet," Brady said, trying to calm his voice. He hadn't meant to over-react, but he'd panicked when he saw her reaching for it. If she were to open it… everything would be ruined. Chloe got a sly, devious look in her eyes seeing how he reacted to what she had thought was just a simple little bowl.

"Brady, is that your surprise for me?"

"I… no. No, it's not important," Brady lied. Damn it! He had had everything planned out perfectly. His worried, nervous mind couldn't handle a change in his plans.

"Then… you won't mind if I look at it!" Chloe exclaimed, grabbing the silver bowl from his hands. She jumped up from the blanket with a giggle of delight, keeping it out of reach for him to grab it away from her.

"Chloe, don't!" But before he could even stand, Chloe had lifted the lid off the little silver bowl, allowing her to see the contents. Brady sank back down in defeat as he watched her face, once filled with joy, take a full turn about, twisting into shock and bewilderment. At a quick glance, the contents would have seemed innocent enough. The bowl itself was filled with delicious ripe black and red raspberries, picked fresh early that morning. But it was not the raspberries of course that had stopped Chloe in her tracks. No, it was the small open wooden box situated in the middle of the bushel of raspberries. Or rather, not the box, but it's contents. The simple oak wood box had a tiny slit in the middle, and in the slit, sat an exquisite white gold ring. In the center of the ring, a beautiful sapphire was placed which shone brighter then the ocean as the light of day plays upon its waves. To each side of the ring a different color diamond was set; one was red, which was meant to symbolize "love", and the other was black, which was Nero's color to symbolize "eternal." A tiny dove was engraved on one side, which was meant to represent a symbol of peace and joy. Chloe slid back down besides Brady, sitting on her knees in front of him, as she picked the ring out of its box.

"Brady… what does this mean?" Chloe asked quietly. Brady sighed, taking the ring from her.

"It means… that I love you. And I want to spend every moment of the rest of my life with you. It means… that I…" Brady stammered, looking for the right words. He'd had everything planned before, but now that she had altered his plans, he was at a lose for words. "I mean… I was… I want to… ask you to marry me," Brady gushed out. He saw the look in her face change. Not a bad look, not a laughing face, but not the look he had wanted to see.

"Brady… I…" Brady didn't let her speak. He stood up abruptly, taking the ring with him. He stepped away from the blanket and the food, and began to pace.

"I know it's sudden. There's… God, there's so much I wanted to say to you. I… I… damn it! This wasn't how this was supposed to go," Brady rambled. Chloe merely watched him as he paced, noting that it seemed like he was getting lost in his own thoughts, like he barely remembered she was there now. "You just don't understand how this is making me feel Chloe. All my life, I believed that I was cursed, that I'd never find anyone who would return the feelings that I had for them. Never find anyone who wouldn't abandon me like all the others had. And I was beginning to believe it was best if I just kept myself locked away, never letting anyone close to me again. But then, then you come along. And everything changes!" Brady ranted. "Almost instantly, you had me throwing out every caution I had built up about, breaking down the wall I'd built around myself to protect my heart from getting broken again. Before I even knew your name, I loved you. I couldn't get you out of my mind. Every time I close my eyes, you're there. I've only known you for a few short days… but I have never, ever felt anything like this in my entire life. When I first met you as a child, I knew you'd be important to me, but I never understood why. Until now," Brady stated. Brady turned to face her, and stopped his pacing, getting down on his knees in front Chloe, who had settled back down on the blanket, watching him with a stoic expression.

"I always envisioned that I would meet the woman I was to spend my life with, and know in an instant that she was the one for me. I've always been a very cautious person, but in truth… I've always wanted a whirl-wind romance. I want a passion that just knocks me off my feet, and completely consumes me. I want a love that is formed from the start, one that will last. Call me crazy if you will, but I've always wanted an out of the blue, all consuming, love at first sight romance. And I have that with you," Brady stated. "From the moment I saw you, I knew. I knew you would be the only woman I would ever want to marry. The only woman who I would have a family with…"

"Yes."

"The only woman I'd want to grow old with."

"Yes."

"The only woman…" At this point, Brady wasn't even looking at her anymore. He was ranting, unseeing, and unhearing, and it took a moment for his brain to register that his beloved had spoken. "Wh… what?"

"Yes," Chloe repeated. It was obvious from the look on his face that Brady was beyond confused. Chloe smiled softly, taking the ring from him again and holding it up in front of both of them. "Brady… I love you. And I would be the happiest woman on earth to be your wife. If I can spend the rest of my life with you by my side, then I can finally be happy. Truly happy. So the answer to your unasked question, Brady… is yes."

"Yes?" Brady asked, as if he couldn't believe his ears. Chloe's grin widened, as she gave the ring to Brady to put on her finger.

"Yes," Chloe replied. Brady took her offered hand, lovingly placing the ring on her finger, and all his doubt and anxiety washed away, leaving only true contentment and joy. Brady smiled for the first time since Chloe had noticed the raspberry bowl. He scooped her up in his arms, standing up with her, and twirled her around, each now laughing joyously.

"Yes!" Brady exclaimed happily, allowing her feet to touch the ground again.

"Yes," Chloe laughed, as she stood on her tip toes, wrapping her arms around his neck, his around her waist, and they kissed for the first time as an engaged couple. The kiss seemed an eternity, an eternity of bliss neither wanted to ever be broken. But when the kiss did end, and Chloe lay her chin on Brady's shoulder, his arms wrapped protectively around her, and hers extended behind Brady, she surveyed the beautiful, amazing ring he had given her. "Brady?"

"Mmm?" Brady replied too happy to form actual words.

"Why raspberries?" Chloe asked. And they both laughed, Brady taking hold of Chloe's arms and putting her at arm's length, so that he could see every inch of her, from her joy filled face to her now shoeless feet.

"You said it best. I have an obsession," Brady answered.

"Ha. Ok, but just promise, no making love in a raspberry covered bed or anything like that," Chloe teased.

"I'll always have my fantasies," Brady returned slyly. Chloe laughed as he pulled her in for another passionate kiss, that was to be followed by many more passionate kisses. And all was right with the world……..


	10. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

A/N. I just want to apologize in advance if this chapter, and any future chapters for that matter, seems sloppy. Considering how long I've been working on this story, and how long the breaks between writing phases are, I tend to have some continuity problems as well as a general problem writing this story the way I intended it to be. This chapter will probably come out completely wrong and really messy, but at least you'll get the gist of the story's meaning, I hope. This story was going to be 15 chapters in length. But this marks the point where I changed my original design and decided to take a different route. So I'm not sure how long it will be. I'm pretty sure it would be at least 15, probably more. Hope you can stick with me that long.

Chloe sighed happily, squeezing Brady's hand in return as they approached the castle courtyard. Despite the need to get back to the castle for some major explanations, the newly engaged couple had taken a break from their obligations to walk through the gardens, feeding each other the bittersweet raspberries which Brady had chosen as a rather strange but cute and effective medium for his proposal, and giving Chloe time to admire her stunning new engagement ring.

It wasn't really the gold and diamonds that mattered of course. Brady had explained, for conversations sake, that the gold was a special rare metal reserved only for special occasions within the royal family that involved a process of mixing tiny diamond particles in the gold in its liquid state, making the jewelry not only more magnificent, but also more durable, and shortening the time necessary to craft the jewel. But it was the fact that the magnificent ring symbolized their eternal and destined love for one another that Chloe admired most about the extraordinary piece of jewelry.

Brady had also explained to Chloe that the ring had actually been forged years ago, when Brady reached marriage age. It was the standard engagement ring for members of the royal family. The only different aspect of each ring was the center diamond. Brady had asked Harold to have the jeweler set it with a sapphire stone to match Chloe's enchanting blue eyes.

"I will need to send the ring back to the jeweler in the morning," Brady had said, much to Chloe's disappointment. Due to the time restraints, as Brady did need the ring quickly to propose after all, the sapphire had not been secured well enough for the ring to withstand long term use. As it was, it was fairly well just for show. Assuming Chloe didn't lose the sapphire out of the ring before morning, the same stone would be secured properly in the gold setting by the royal jeweler. "I did not have time to engrave it properly."

"What else could you possibly need to add?" Chloe had asked curiously. The ring was magnificently perfect just as it was.

"Here, on this side," Brady had said, taking hold of her right ring finger and pointing to the blank side of the ring, opposite the dove engraving, "I think we shall add intertwining letters; the Mucchean letters for B and C. This ring, as it is now, is all about Neroean tradition. But, if we are to be married, then I think it only proper that our wedding bands show that we are forever linked through our love. I am Neroean, but you were born in Mucche, and I wish to show you that I respect that. What better way then to display a little bit of your homeland in the jewel that symbolizes our union? An intertwining of our cultures as well as our souls, if you will." It was customary for the King to also wear a gold band on his finger once married, though it usually was only a solid gold band with an engraving to symbolize his loyalty to his chosen wife. Brady planned to have his crafted with the same Mucchean letters as he was placing on Chloe's. Chloe had been greatly moved by the gesture. It would mean physical proof that Brady accepted the fact that she was born of Kiriakis royalty, and he loved her just the same.

Night had fallen by now. The many servants, mindful not to bother the lovers who were too wrapped up in each other to notice that there was even a world around them, had lit all the garden torches at the first sign of nightfall, as they did every evening. The torches, along with the sufficient moon lighting, perfectly illuminated all paths and walkways around the castle. Neither wanted to head in just yet, but despite the cooling night breeze, bugs were becoming quite the hassle as they were drawn to the light of the bright torches. And they couldn't forget that the Kings of the Alliance would soon be arriving seeking answers. Brady had explained to her in detail exactly what his plans were, and what he meant to tell the citizens of Nero at the public announcement. So it was best all around that the newly engaged couple should head in for the night. They had just gotten within sight of the courtyard when the young lovers were pulled from their blissful "no-one-else-in-the-world" state by a call to Brady.

"King Brady!" King Jason shouted out the moment he caught sight of Brady and Chloe approaching. He had just arrived at the Palace moments ago, and hadn't even taken time to rest or greet Princess Miriam properly for that matter. He had been too distracted for such pleasantries, and had been rather disgusted to find news that respectful King Brady was reported to be out with his lady friend rather then awaiting their arrival while there were drastic events playing out around them. Upon sight of Chloe, however, Jason, even though the lighting was rather dim, and she paled in comparison to Princess Miriam in his eyes, could see why a man would choose spending time with his over duty. "Ah, and this must be the young lady you informed us all about. You failed to mention, however, what a stupendously magnificent creature she was," Jason stated, causing a slight blush to grace Chloe's cheeks. She knew full well they was merely words out of gentlemanly courtesy, but Chloe still wasn't quite used to being spoken to like a lady. Brady and Chloe had already let go of each other's hands before coming within sight of David and Jason, giving no indication of their relationship just yet. Jason reached for Chloe's hand to lay a kiss upon it, as was customary and proper for a man, whatever his status in life, to do when being introduced to dignified young ladies such as Chloe. "My lady?" Jason asked permission, as he remembered hearing that this girl was not from around their countries, and he did not wish to seem too presumptuous that she would not find their cultures discourteous. Chloe nodded, allowing him to place a respectful kiss upon her hand. "Quite magnificent indeed," Jason murmured, though not in any manner that a lady would find insulting or impertinent. He really only made the statement because he had found it rather impossible not to notice the exquisite, and extremely eye-catching ring on Chloe's finger.

"You are too kind, Your Majesty," Chloe said politely, finding it almost second nature to curtsy when in presence of other high status gentlemen. It was quite as if she never really forgot what she had learned in her short years in Mucche… Well, at least some less cruel bits of information at any rate. She might have been a slave most of her life, but living so long in Nero had taught one to recognize Nero's allies. And what little she remembered of her time in Mucche had made her able to recognize Mucche's enemies, so though she was just now meeting the Kings of the Alliance in person, she could know preciously who they were without a formal introduction. Although of course the clothes a King wore, unless they liked to dress like commoners the way Brady had when they met for the first time as adults in the court square, were usually a dead giveaway. She of course did not see the Kings of the Alliance as her enemies as she might have as a child. Even if she was not Brady's fiancé, she would not feel that way about them. Chloe could only hope that she would not have to think of them as enemies of her homeland, enemies of what little family she had left, for much longer.

As Jason straightened, letting Chloe withdraw her hand and drop back to her side, it suddenly dawned on him where he had seen the ring on Chloe's finger before. He had met Queen Marlena once as a child, he vaguely remembered, and every portrait he remembered of Queen Isabella all included the wedding ring on her finger.

"Wait a minute. Is that not…"

"Jason, my friend, where are Shawn and David this evening? You can not possibly be the first to arrive," Brady interrupted, having seen where Jason's eyes were stationed as he began to ask his question. He was not willing to answer any questions about Chloe until the announcement.

"I am right here, young Black," David stated as he came up next to Jason at the top of the stone steps. Although David had not seen King John Black on many occasions, if he overlooked one particular incident which, though unknown to him, involved the beautiful young woman right in front of him, David knew full well of John's great accomplishments in the kingdom. Improving the plumbing system, helping to increase the crop productivity within the city, managing to keep the royal treasury sufficiently full without having to add a single tax on the townspeople through his entire reign. All were signs of John's greatness, before grief overtook him. Though he was well on his way, Brady had quite a long way to go before he became the mature, experienced King that his ancestors before him were. And even through his life of loss, he still had a better starting point than poor John had had. Brady had yet to let his grief manifest into an action that proved harmful to others. "As for Shawn, I take it that he was the first to arrive. Quite some time ago from what Lord Banks told me. Lord Banks was under the impression that since you were out, and Shawn did not wish to disturb you until Jason and myself arrived, he retired for a rest."

"And Miriam? Has she also retired for the evening?" Jason asked, trying not to sound too overly interested in whereabouts of young Princess Miriam, even though thoughts of her had so instantly clouded his mind that he forgot all about inquiring about Chloe's ring. David smiled knowingly.

"Actually, young Masters, I could not convince my overly stubborn daughter to rest awhile even after such a long trip. She has insisted upon waiting for us in the conference room. Shall we, gentlemen?"

"Actually, David, I am afraid we haven't the time. I know I promised you all an explanation once you reached Nero, but I must call together a public announcement before the hour grows too late. It is really already a stretch to call together the townspeople, but it is rather important. If you do not mind, why don't you and Jason retrieve Princess Miriam and meet me on the balcony for the announcement? We can retire to the conference room after I talk to the people, where I assure you we can talk more in detail. I will send Harold for Shawn," Brady said. David nodded in agreement.

"Of course. We shall be waiting for your arrival. Jason, would you mind escorting an old man to his daughter's side?" David asked, knowing Jason, though he hid his affections for young Miriam quite well, would be greatly pleased to see her again. Jason, trying to hide his slight smile, nodded.

"It would be my honor, David," Jason replied. With that, Jason and David turned back inside the Palace, intent on retrieving Miriam from the conference room. Brady shook his head, smiling, as he too noticed how Jason reacted to the mention of Princess Miriam Lockhart. He had instantly forgotten all about the engagement ring on Chloe's finger in his haste to get to Miriam's side. Brady turned to Chloe now, taking her hands in his once again, and smiling affectionately at her.

"That was a close one," Brady stated with a grin, bending to place a gentle, loving kiss on her hand, the complete opposite of when Jason had kissed her hand.

"Yes it was," Chloe said with a similar grin on her face, although hers was mixed more with relief. She was rather nervous about the announcement that was to be made in just a short time. Chloe had no doubt that the townspeople would be very pleased at the announcement of their engagement, even if she was a stranger to them. During her short time in the Palace, she had heard quite a large bit of gossip. All the townspeople seemed to be worrying more over the fact that Brady had not chosen a bride-- not even appeared to be courting a love interest even-- then they were about the ongoing wars. It was not the engagement announcement that worried her. The citizens would welcome a stranger if it meant Brady would finally be taking a bride to produce an heir, but would they accept a Mucchean Princess?

Chloe was also rather saddened by that knowledge that the people probably would have an easier time adjusting to a total stranger then they would a Mucchean. Chloe could only pray there would be no riots. Hopefully, Brady's proposal of peace, finally, with Mucche would keep most of those who would riot at bay. Brady could sense her unease, so he squeezed her hands reassuringly, trying to give her positive vibes. Tonight would be quite a hurdle to get over, only to be followed by an even bigger one tomorrow. They could not give up on their love for one another now; now was when they needed their bond to be strongest.

"You're worried, aren't you?" Brady asked knowingly. Chloe knew she need not answer. She just lowered her head, looking down at their hands linked together. He gave her a strength she could not possibly ever describe. But she could not expect him to be strong enough for the both of them in all situations. "I understand, Chloe, you know I do. But you shouldn't fret over this. I promise you, they will all come to love you, as much as I do. Though in most cases, I pray not the way I love you," Brady joked, hoping to ease her worry. And it did seem to work, as a wide smile spread across Chloe's face. "And do not even begin to worry about tomorrow. Let's just think of getting through the night. And Chloe, I want you to understand something," Brady started, gripping her hands tightly, but not painfully, in his, and drawing them close to him, her fingertips grazing his shirt. "No matter what happens, no matter how the people react to our engagement, and even if Philip is not welcoming of us… as long as we have each other, everything will be alright. You know that, don't you? You believe me when I say that?" Brady asked.

"You know I do, Brady. I love you so much… I know as long as I am with you, I will always be safe, and happy. And that is all that matters. As long as we are together, we will be happy," Chloe replied. And she did believe that, with all her heart and soul. "I just hope that they like me. It is quite difficult to be a good Queen when your subjects hate you," Chloe stated, with another grin. Brady laughed, pulling her close to him. And she fell into his waiting arms, and her lips happily surrendered to his in a delicious kiss.

"You are just so beautiful when you tease," Brady murmured as their kiss broke, but his arms still remained wrapped securely around her. "Although I personally prefer a whole other kind of teasing over that of funny jokes," Brady breathed, placing a soft kiss on her neck just under her ear. Chloe giggled, squirming out of his grasp playfully, although she would much rather prefer that his arms stayed wrapped around her for all eternity.

"You are a terrible procrastinator, Brady Black. Whatever happened to your duties which you tried so desperately to swear to not a day before?" Chloe teased, reminding him of the excuse he had attempted to use to send her away when he thought she had come to break his heart.

"I think you are just trying to get rid of me, Chloe," Brady stated matter-of-factly, moving to wrap his arms around her again. Chloe darted away, though just to tease him, not really because she wished him to leave.

"In all seriousness, Brady, we really mustn't linger. It will take some time to get the people together, especially at such a late hour. And we must retrieve Shawn, so we really must go inside now," Chloe said. If she had her way, they could never go inside and she'd be pleased. She didn't quite feel like leaving the fantasy paradise that the gardens had become after Brady's proposal. But she believed the sooner they got their obligations over with, perhaps the sooner they could return to their blissful paradise, where only they existed. Brady nodded in agreement. He too did not want to have to go back inside. But if he lingered any longer in the alternate reality they had created in their bliss, he would be unable to ever return to the real reality, where he had many important, often life-threatening, obligations to fulfill.

"I suppose we must. Would you like to accompany me to find Shawn and Harold, or would you prefer to go on alone and wait with Jason and David?" Brady asked.

"That all depends."

"On what?"

"On whether Jason will be too distracted by Miriam to ask questions about my ring or not." Brady laughed at this. Even a total stranger could see Jason's adoration for Princess Miriam. And he had thought he hid it so well.

"I am quite certain he will not even notice you are there, my love. Which is good, because I would so hate having to despise one of my closest friends for noticing my future wife a little too much," Brady replied. Chloe smiled.

"Then I shall be waiting for you on the balcony," Chloe said. She turned to leave, but then decided better of it as she turned quickly back, moving in for a quick, but sensuous kiss. "Don't be too long," Chloe whispered, before turning once again to head inside, disappearing before Brady could utter a single word. And she meant it too. Not only did she not want to be away from Brady's side for, Chloe really did not want to be alone with Jason and David too long. Though Jason would be distracted, David, being much older and wiser, would be free to make observations of her. She really would have rather accompanied Brady, but Chloe figured she would only be in his way. So, she would just have to hope King David would keep his assumptions to himself rather then taking Jason's method of making observations aloud.

Shaking his head, Brady smiled slyly, as he too walked up the few courtyard steps and entered the Palace. She was such a tease, and he loved every moment of it. Brady made his way through the winding hallways which he knew like the back of his hand from a lifetime spent wandering them, heading for the Palace kitchen.

"Haro…." Brady began as he swung open the door to the kitchen. He stopped when he noticed it was empty. Not even the Royal Cook was to be seen, although perhaps the hour was later than he thought. Brady furrowed his brow, wondering where Harold would be. Brady usually found Harold in the kitchen this late at night, since there would be no other servants around to bother him as he flirted with the young Royal Cook who Harold had developed quite a crush on over the years. It was very unusual that Brady would look for him in the kitchen and not find Harold there. Brady shrugged, closing the door and deciding to go to Harold's room. It was doubtful that Harold would have retired for the night, as he knew the Kings of the Alliance would be arriving and requiring to be tended to. But perhaps he would be there preparing a speech or perhaps working on a proposal he wished Brady to bring to the public's attention. That man was always coming up with new ideas. Just as he approached the royal hall, Brady caught sight of Shawn coming out of one of the bedrooms, Brady assumed the one Shawn always occupied when he visited the Palace.

"Brady," Shawn greeted, coming forward to clasp Brady's arm in greeting. "I was beginning to think you would never come in from the gardens."

"Oh, you know I would not have stayed out there forever. Eventually, I would have gotten very hungry," Brady joked. He was just in such a good mood. What newly engaged man that loved his fiancé more than life itself wouldn't be? And somehow, someway, he sensed that Shawn was actually happy too. Brady always did have a talent for sensing things others did not, and for some reason, the aura around Shawn seemed much lighter, much more contented. Much like the way Shawn was before Isabella died. "But in all seriousness, I came to tell you that there is to be a public announcement now as soon as the townspeople are gathered together. I'd like for you to go met the others on the balcony for the announcement, and then we will retire to the conference room. After all, I still owe you three a very serious, detailed explanation for putting you through all those preparations then calling you back on a moment's notice."

"An explanation would be nice, yes," Shawn said in much the same light, airy manner as Brady's hunger joke.

"Have you seen Harold? I'd like to ask his assistance in gathering the people together for the announcement. He is so much better with people than I, and that skill will likely come in handy as I'm certain this will awaken a large number of our townsfolk," Brady stated.

"Harold is in his room, I believe. Is there anything I can help with?"

"No no, that's quite alright. You just go on, the others will be there by now I imagine. I'll meet you there shortly," Brady replied. Shawn nodded, turning to head the rest of the way down the hall to Brady's chambers where the only access to the balcony would be. "Oh, and Shawn?"

"Yes Brady?" Shawn replied, turning on his heel to face Brady again.

"You do know that buttons are meant to be worn on the front side, don't you?" Brady asked. Shawn looked down quizzically, and was very embarrassed to find that his shirt had been put on backwards. "I mean, if this is a new fashion statement, I support you all the way. It's just that you may not wish to go up in front of all of Nero looking like you just rolled out of bed."

"Well I did just roll out of bed. Took a nap and all that," Shawn stammered. "I'll just… yeah, I'll just go get a little more presentable."

"That would be a good idea," Brady laughed, passing Shawn as he opened the door to the room he'd occupied last time he was in the Palace, and continuing one door up to Harold's bedroom door. Brady knocked three times, calling for Harold to open the door. Just because he was King after all didn't mean he liked to barge in on people, although from time to time he threatened to barge in on Harold just to taunt him.

"Just a minute," Harold called in reply, and Brady could hear some rustling noises come from inside the room; something like a chair being moved across the floor, and papers picked up off the floor or desk? A moment later, Harold opened the door, dressed in fresh clothing and with a scroll in his hands. Harold rarely went anywhere without his writing utensils. He claimed it would be a shame if an idea occurred to him, and he forgot it by the time he got to a quill and scroll, so he usually just carried one around with him, secured to a thin wooden rectangular board which Harold had strangely dubbed his 'clip board', whatever that was supposed to mean. "My apologies, Your Majesty. I assumed that you would wish to call for an announcement as soon as Shawn and the others arrived. I wanted to look my best when people started shooting me dirty looks for waking them from their slumbers." Brady grinned.

"Then you know what I am going to ask of you," Brady stated. Harold nodded.

"Yes Your Majesty, I'm on it. I have a few of our resident loud mouths ready to help me call out the declaration that you wish to speak to the people," Harold replied. He half bowed, signifying his departure, and Brady waved him on. Shawn emerged from his room, now looking more like a King rather then a blind man who couldn't dress himself, just as Harold passed. "Your Majesty," Harold acknowledged with a simple nod, and a slight smile that Brady did not see.

"Harold," Shawn returned, simply nodding as well. And Harold continued his way down the hall then, and Shawn approached Brady. "Shall we head to the balcony now?"

"You go on ahead, Shawn, I believe I'll go down and make sure everything goes smoothly," Brady replied. Shawn nodded, passing Brady in the hall to continue to Brady's chambers again. Brady smiled as he watched Shawn pass, and he took a few steps down the hall before speaking again to comment on something about Shawn he hadn't noticed before.

"Nice ass, Shawnie Boy," Brady smirked, walking on without giving Shawn a chance to respond. Shawn whirled around, but of course, it's rather impossible to watch one's own ass. So he just turned his head, and reached to pull on his leather pants to get a view, thinking he might have sat in something. But rather then the fine leather that had been used to make Shawn's pants, Shawn's hand came in to contact with soft flesh. Shawn had only changed his shirt and not his pants. He apparently had been too off in his own little world to notice that the seam of his pants had been ripped completely open, and he had just about walked out in front of a crowd of thousands of Neroean men, women, and children bare-assed. Shawn's face immediately turned scarlet red as he finally felt the breeze… Brady was never going to let him live this one down……

Little over a half hour later, all the townspeople had been gathered in the castle's Court Square for the public announcement. Actually, a much larger number of people had arrived then expected, considering the late hour, that even more guards had been called from their posts to ensure that the peace was kept within the crowd. Even if a crowd agreed with what was being announced and had no negative fears, such a large number of people in such a small amount of space could easily become hostile due to the poor surroundings, and people's natural tendency to lash out when their personal space is violated.

King Shawn, King David, King Jason, Chloe, and all but a few of the council members were all already present on the sizeable balcony awaiting only Brady and Harold's arrival. Chloe's hands were fixed in her lap as she nervously wrung her hands together, hoping no one would notice, and praying Brady would hurry up and arrive. What strength she had built up about the impending announcement was waning fast. If Brady did not arrive soon, Chloe feared that she might bolt… what was taking so long?

"My dear, why are you fidgeting so? Has the night air brought you a chill?" David asked in whisper, concerned. He was a true gentlemen of his time. Just because one was of high status did not mean that they should not be as concerned about the well-being of others as they were their own. In fact, a King, at least a good King, was expected to be no less of a gentlemen. Though he did not sense that Chloe was merely cold from the night air, as it was rather perfect tonight, actually. But he did sense something was amiss with the girl.

David had been seated beside Chloe quite some time ago, after retrieving his daughter Miriam from the conference room, and he had noticed that she had not stopped her nervous habits. First she had tapped her foot insistently for five straight minutes, and then she spent the next ten crossing and uncrossing her arms, and now she was wringing her hands in her lap. Surely she had not thought no one had noticed? Even the crowd below, which did not have the close up view that David had, could probably see signs of Chloe's nervousness as they chatted amongst themselves, some grumbling about being awakened at such an hour, and others talking excitedly as if every word of news that the King would speak upon his arrival would be like a lifeline to the world outside of Nero to them. David's question startled Chloe out of her worried thoughts, and she stopped wringing her hands, placing them down in her lap.

"Oh no. Thank you very much for your kind concern, Your Majesty. Nothing ails me. I am just simply not used to such large crowds, that's all. Just nerves, I suppose," Chloe lied, though she chided herself for it. If Brady considered David to be a trusted friend and ally, then so did she. It was not proper of her to lie to an ally, but she had no other choice. David would understand before long. David nodded in understanding, but he knew she was being dishonest. You did not rule as King of an entire country as long as David had and not be able to read people. Not only their words and actions, but their faces and tones as they spoke. He knew something more was on her mind, but he would respect her decision not to share any information. After all, he was a near stranger to her. David merely smiled reassuringly, reaching out a hand to place on top of her right hand, much in the way he would to console his daughter Miriam.

"Do not be nervous my dear. The crowd is really nothing to worry about. You are safe up here with us. Even if the news which young Brady brings us upsets them, there is nothing to fear," David reassured, patting her hand. Chloe smiled, bringing her left hand to place on top of David's in thanks.

"Thank you. I do feel much better now," Chloe said in hushed return. Just as Jason and Princess Miriam spoke in low voices as they awaited Brady and Harold, Chloe and David's voices had not gotten over a whisper as to not disturb the others around them, and also in a manner of keeping others from eavesdropping on their conversation. David nodded, giving Chloe's hand one last squeeze before removing his hand from hers. As he'd placed his larger hand over hers, he could not help but be reminded of the ring which was on her finger. He too had noticed it earlier, and noticed Jason's reaction to it. But David would not pry. He would not even think about its meaning, and had tried his best not to focus on it. But, just as his wily daughter was, David was a very curious man, and he rather hoped that if the ring did indeed hold any significance, they would find out about it soon enough, whether at the announcement or the conference afterwards.

Not but another moment passed before Brady emerged from behind the curtain separating the balcony from his chambers, followed right behind by Harold, and the people within the crowd began to hush those around them, demanding silence as their King's presence was made known.

"Fully decent this time old friend?" Brady whispered with a smirk to Shawn, placing an arm on his shoulder, which Shawn swatted away in a rather unkingly manner. His face was still flushed from embarrassment as it was without Brady making it even worse. Brady just grinned, moving up towards the podium which he always stood at to speak in public announcements. Chloe caught his hand before he could approach it, and bid him bend his head down.

"What was that about?" Chloe asked curiously. Brady just shook his head, still smiling.

"I'll tell you about it later."

"You most certainly will not!" Shawn whispered feverently, having heard Brady's smug remark. Harold shushed him, nudging him with his elbow. A gesture which everyone failed to notice was just something a common man did not do to a King, even if he were King of another country, because it was just usually considered disrespectful.

"The announcement," Harold chided in whisper. And Shawn just nodded obediently, though he still gave Brady a 'don't you even dare' look before Brady turned to the podium. All those who had yet to be silenced now immediately stopped their chatter, quietly waiting for their beloved king to speak.

"Thank you all for gathering here tonight. I realize the hour is late, and I apologize for waking many of you and your children from your slumbers. But as always, I wished to share the information which I have recently received with you all as soon as possible. News pays no nevermind to the time of day, as they say," Brady said in his most regal, loudest possible voice to insure that his words carried to the back of the crowd, allowing those not fortunate enough to be in front to hear every word he spoke. Brady's joke caused many in attendance to chuckle, raising the somewhat stressed mood to a more pleasing level. If they had to be awoken or called out of their homes at odd hours of the night, it was a least refreshing to hear their King joke so. It meant whatever he had called them all together for did not trouble him so deeply that he had become cold or withdrawn. "Being as the hour is quite late, I am sure none of you will begrudge me if I merely get to the point," Brady stated. Chloe tensed slightly… this was it. No going back now. Although she was not aware of it, and would have stopped if she were, Chloe began to nervously rub the diamond of the ring on her finger.

"As I am sure you are all very much aware of by now, today I was to lead our army into the mountains of Mucche and engage in what might have very well been the final battle between Nero and its life-long enemy. And as you are also very much aware, that battle never happened. And I am here to tell you now, that, assuming all goes according to plan, it never will." Many hushed whispers began to be murmured throughout the crowd, and a few that were not so polite as to keep their opinions quietly to themselves.

"But, Your Majesty, surely you do not mean to just ignore our enemies!" One cry did come out quite clear, though its origins were unclear because of the mass of people.

"The Muccheans have made it quite clear they will not stop until they have their revenge!" Another cry, this one from an elderly man, who came from a family with very deep roots. He still remembered very clearly every story he had ever heard passed down from his ancestors about the feud between the Black family and the Kiriakis family. Brady raised his hands to hush the crowd, and they obeyed the unspoken request for their silence.

"My friends, I assure you, I by no means intend to leave Nero open to any danger. Quite the contrary. I believe I have finally found a peaceful way to resolve our differences and put this senseless bloody war behind us. Surely all of you more than I understand the importance of peace. I have suffered more than my fair share of loss in my time. But it is you, my faithful people, dedicated citizens of Nero, that suffer the highest price in these wars." Brady stated. "How many among you can honestly say that you, and I do mean you directly, have suffered no loss during your lifetime because of Nero's constant battles with Mucche? Who among you can truthfully tell me that this war does not affect each and every one of your lives on a day to day basis? Who among you have not suffered loss of crops, not lost a part of your homeland, never lost a loved one to these senseless battles? Well come on then! Who among you can say to me right here and now that they feel nothing has been taken from them because of this war? I want to know what you all think and feel. That is my job, that is what I am supposed to do. I am supposed to take your thoughts and your feelings and turn them into actions that benefit us all. So come on then, who here has suffered no losses?" Brady spoke perhaps a bit too harshly, but it was necessary to get his point across.

Not a man, women, or child among them spoke up. Truth be told, they had all felt the sting of loss that very well could have been avoided if a peace between the two nations could just be reached. Not a one among them had not lost a father or a brother or a cousin or a lover, or at least someone very close to them because of the war. So many of them had had crops destroyed, and would have starved to death if not for the outreaching hand of the Royal Family. Even John in his later years, which were filled with resentment and a desire for revenge, had always managed to see to it that his people did not go starving. But there had still always been loss, even if only a loss of pride at allowing some outsider to burn down their crops because they were too weak to fight. Deep down in their hearts, as much as the vast majority of them had such deep loyalty to their king, to their country, that they continued to look upon Mucche as an enemy because the kings of their time and times before had, they all knew the same truth. This battle had always, and would always be pointless as long as it continued to rage on, taking everything from them they had worked so hard for.

Brady nodded his head when no one answered. "I thought as much," Brady stated, more to himself, but to the citizens as well. "There is not one among you who has not felt the needless sting of loss. Then, would I be correct to believe that there is also not one among you who would not take all means necessary to not feel this loss anymore? Would I be correct in thinking that none of you present today would not much rather take a peaceful route than engaging in the battle to end all battles?" When he heard no complaints, Brady took it as they were all thinking to themselves the answer that he so hoped they would utter.

"I realize, Ladies and Gentlemen, that it does not seem like it has been that long since I was pushing for that battle. It seems like only a moment ago that I was leading you all into believing that our only option was to end this war once and for all with more bloodshed. Well, I was wrong, my friends. I was terribly wrong. There is a far better way to resolve our problems then through violence, and I lost sight of that. But now, I would like to introduce you to the woman responsible for that change in view," Brady stated. He half turned around, reaching out his hand for Chloe. Chloe hesitated, afraid. But Brady smiled at her, in that special way that only he could, and all her fears were melted away. She reached out to take his hand, and proudly stood at her lover's side in front of the majority of the Neroean population.

"It is my honor to introduce you all to the woman I thank God above everyday for bringing to me. The woman who in a few short days has changed my life, for the better, forever. My people, my friends… I'm proud to introduce my wife-to-be, and your future Queen… Chloe Kiriakis." What whispers that had begun to develop throughout the crowd as Brady started his introduction--whispers that perhaps their King had finally chosen a suitable mate, a new Queen to help in his rule, and whispers about the dignity and grace they sensed in Chloe's stance, that could only mean she was meant to be their queen-- came to a complete halt. Chloe did not know such a complete dead silence could exist in such a large mass of people in one small space. The fleeting hope that everything would be alright died within her at their silence, and she clung to Brady's hand for dear life. She felt that if a pin was dropped at this very moment, you could hear it for miles because of the vast, eerie silence which had enveloped the entire crowd, and every person that stood behind them on the balcony as well. Yelling and screaming, she could handle. Hell, she could even handle it if they hated her so much that they began pelting her with rocks or vegetation or whatever they had to throw at her. But this silence, this deafening, frightening silence, was driving her mad with each passing moment.

It was not until what seemed like hours later, while in reality, it was perhaps no more then a minute after Brady announced his fiance's name, that the silence was broken by the sound of a wooden chair scraping against the balcony flooring. It was Lord Banks, rising from his seat on the left side of the balcony. Lord Banks, who often stayed the latest of the councilmen in the Palace, had been first to arrive, and had therefore chosen his seat. He'd picked the first row of course, and had sat in the chair farthest right, so he had been only mere feet from Chloe's chair on the right side.

As Lord Banks approached her, Chloe feared perhaps he meant to strike her for daring to violate their country in such a manner as to make their beloved King fall in love with her. Or perhaps he would spit on her to show that they all would have nothing to do with her. But, had she known Lord Banks better, she would have known he would never do such a thing. Although he often did not agree with authority, if their King trusted this woman enough to wish to spend the rest of his life with her despite who her family was, then so could he. And so should they all. Much to Chloe's surprise, Lord Banks took Chloe's hand in his, and on bended knee, kissed her hand in respect, allowing all citizens present to see him as he did so.

"My Lady, I believe that I speak for us all when I say we welcome you to our country, and we would be honored to have you as our Queen," Lord Banks said with respect. And tears came to Chloe's eyes as the people began to follow in his example, so moved by the normally outspoken Lord Banks that they knew they could trust this woman, though Mucchean, to be their honored Queen.. Shouts of joy began to be heard throughout the crowd.

"All hail our new Queen!"

"Anyone our King would choose must be kind and just. Let us all hail to our new Queen, Chloe Kiriakis!" And many other such shouts could be made out, as each and every one of the council members approached Chloe in their respective turns to kiss the hand of their new Queen-to-be. King David and his daughter Miriam then stepped forward to shake hands with both Brady and Chloe, and offered their congratulations. Jason was be next, and he threw in an 'I knew it' comment or two before allowing Shawn to congratulate the happy couple. And when it came Harold's turn, Harold, being as he was the most persistent in Brady choosing a wife as soon as possible, actually hugged Chloe, babbling about how happy they were going to be and how welcome he would make sure she felt in the Palace and just on and on before Brady actually had to pry Chloe out of Harold's arms and just tell him thank you for all he had done, for the both of them.

As soon as the crowd settled down, and the councilmen and Kings of the Alliance were again seated, Brady went on more in detail about he and Chloe's plans to wed, and their hopes that Philip would take the marriage as a sign of union between the two countries. They spent well over an hour answering questions, and assuring the people that they would be leaving straight away in the morning to approach Philip with the idea.

"I want you all to remember," Brady continued, as he began to wrap up his speech, "no matter what happens in Mucche, no matter if Philip denies our petition of peace… Chloe and I will be wed. Although I am uncertain of what course of action we plan to take should Philip deny our union, I know one thing is for certain. This event, all the events of these past few days, will mean the end of this war once and for all, one way or another. I can assure you all of that," Brady finished. The crowd, which he had completely won over despite a few fears and worries from many of the citizens, cheered and clapped. "And now, I think you all should turn in for the evening. There is still much to do, but none of it will concern you now. You have done your duty in being loyal to me throughout thick and thin, and I… we thank you so very much for that loyalty. Whatever news I see fit to bring to your attention, I will do so as soon as it arises, as I always have. But for now, you should all go back to your homes, and get your rest. Good night, and I shall speak to you all when we return," Brady stated. One more cheer would be heard before the guards posted around would begin to clear out the area, directing traffic out of the castle's court square so no one would be harmed in the rush of people departing back to their homes. As the public began to clear out, the councilmen stood, some stretching their tired limbs from being in a setting position for so long.

"Come gentlemen, why don't we retire to the conference room now? I promised you all an even more detailed explanation, and I'm sure many of you will have questions and comments of your own to make," Brady stated when he turned to face the councilmen and the others which by now were all standing. David, dubbing himself somewhat leader of the group, nodded.

"That would be delightful. I myself have much which I would like to know. My Lady, will you be joining us tonight?" David asked. He would have preferred it if Chloe did stay for the conference. He usually did try to disagree with women being allowed in political matters. Not because he believed men alone could handle the burden of course. He actually had a very high respect for women and believed they could handle most situations better than men at times. He merely did not like to indulge his daughter's fantasies. It was enough that she would be put in such a danger when he passed on and had to assume the duties of a ruler, if her younger brother was not old enough. And even if Connor was of age then, Miriam would still rule at his side, even when he took a wife, just not with the title of Queen. But tonight, he believed it would be refreshing to have her present, as he was assured many of the questions he was anxious to ask could be more easily answered by her then Brady.

"Actually, Your Majesty, I believe that I will retire for the evening. It has been such a very fast paced day. I am actually quite tired," Chloe responded, now turning to Brady. "Is that alright with you, Brady?"

"Of course it is my love. You go on, I'll see to it that the place is cleared out and you are not disturbed. Harold," Brady began, and Harold stepped forward from his place still besides Shawn, "would you mind arranging for a hot bath for Chloe before you join us in the conference room?"

"Not at all, Your Majesty," Harold replied happily. He would probably agree to anything at that moment. He was just so pleased that Chloe had said yes, and the people were accepting of Brady's choice for his wife and Queen.

"Thank you, Harold. Gentlemen, why don't you all head out that way and I shall met you there momentarily," Brady said. All nodded, and they began to file out, Miriam breaking begrudgingly apart from Jason's side to take her father's arm for the walk through the many hallways to the awaiting conference room. Harold nodded his goodbye as well, and headed out behind the last of the councilmen, leaving Brady and Chloe alone on the balcony, except for a few people still milling out in the castle's court square, and the guards that were directing them out. Brady wrapped his arms around Chloe, pulling her in close to him, resting his forehead on hers, though not kissing her lips. "See? That wasn't so bad, now was it?" Chloe playfully swatted at Brady's arm in return, which caused wide grin to spread across his face.

"Not so bad? That silence almost drove me mad! I thought they hated me for sure," Chloe stated.

"Not once they heard the full story. And really, I think it was shock that silenced them, not hatred. After all, rumor was you were dead," Brady pointed out. He had explained, though not in detail, to the people that Princess Chloe Kiriakis had most definitely not been killed, but had in fact lived here in Nero most of her life. And although they knew she had lived as a slave, somehow the knowledge that she had spent most of her childhood and adolescence living in Nero put their mind more to ease, like living here, even if it might not have been her choice, made her more of a part of Nero rather then a part of Mucche. Brady had briefly explained that although he knew nothing of what kind of a man Philip was, he knew that Chloe was good and pure, and would make a fine Queen for them all. And they, at least for the most part, believed that. If their King believed it, so would they. Not to say that they were sheep. Quite the opposite. They very much voiced their opinions on matters, whether they concerned the community as a whole or not, every chance they got. But, although they'd seen hard times, the Blacks were very well respected for their honesty, and the people knew that Brady would not tell them anything that he did not believe with all his heart, and that he believed would bring them only good, not harm. "Everything is going to be alright Chloe. You have to believe that, especially now, when you've seen the way they have taken to you. I know that even if they may still be a bit skeptical, it will not be long before they love and respect you, the way they did my mother and sister." Chloe's glance lowered a bit, almost in shame.

"I could never be as good a Queen as your mother and sister were, Brady. You know that," Chloe said. Brady frowned, placing a finger under her chin to lift her eyes up to face his.

"Chloe….let's not talk of such things now, alright? Let us think only happy thoughts, while we still can. Tomorrow is a big day. Let's not start it off with such talk, alright?" Chloe nodded in reply. "Good. Harold won't take long preparing your bath. Why don't you go in and have a nice hot bath, and I will join you as soon as I can." Chloe again nodded.

"That sounds wonderful, although I wish you could join me for that bath," Chloe stated with a smile now.

"Tempting. But alas, duty calls. And I must hurry off before you tempt me with even more delicious images of you and the things I would much rather be doing with you instead of going to this conference," Brady said with a smirk. With a swooping bow, he kissed her hand, and was through the curtain on his way to the conference room without another word from her. He was famous for that, leaving with the last word in. And Chloe found that so enticing, and just loved it. Chloe shook her head before she went through the lush purple curtain herself, to pick out something nice, something "delicious" to wear for when her husband-to-be came back from his meeting…..

Brady sighed in relief as the last of his councilmen finally departed from the room. Although Brady had originally intended to convene only with Jason, Shawn, and David, many of the councilmen present had insisted upon accompanying their King to the meeting. In the presence of Kings from other countries, the councilmen had been less quick to shout and bicker so, but that had only meant it took longer to get rid of them. In the near two hours since the announcement had ended, there really had not been any constructive conclusions reached, although a few questions had been posed that would prove of interest to the Kings of the Alliance. But now, Brady was growing quite tired, and wondered if he would be allowed to retreat to his chambers before dawn at this rate.

"Well, now that that has been taken care of, we can get down to business," Jason stated. He too had been greatly pleased to see the last of Brady's council go. Jason could barely stand his own council, let alone Brady's. Hardly a word any of them had said, save Lord Banks, perhaps the most rational of all of them, in the last two painfully long hours had been at all useful to their purpose. But in all politeness, not a single one of those that had more important things to discuss made their exasperation known.

"Yes, let's," David agreed. "The hour grows late, so perhaps we should attempt to cut this short. I believe the biggest question, young Black, that we pose here is, what you plan to do should King Philip deny your peace treaty?" David asked. Brady sighed again.

"To be honest, David, I really do not know. Chloe and I have not discussed anything further then approaching Philip. I believe… we are, both of us, rather afraid of what would happen if Philip did send us away. It would devastate Chloe, and for the people of Nero… it could quite possibly mean the inevitable."

"All out war." It wasn't really a question Shawn asked, but a statement. Brady nodded, his sadness evident. Even after all the pain the Kiriakis family had inflicted upon him and his ancestors, even though he knew he should probably not trust Philip, especially not enough to go willingly into his lands, unarmed, with a message of peace… Even through all that, he could no longer justify war on Mucche. A family that could produce someone as wonderfully kind and good-natured as Chloe, even if she had not been raised in their house, could not be all bad. And he loved Chloe so much, he knew if he should ever raise a sword against the Kiriakis family in battle again, it would hurt her, maybe even push her away. Brady wanted no more heartache to be bestowed upon those he loved, and he prayed that nothing would go wrong tomorrow, that they could finally be at peace. They could not be the family that he had so desired so long as war still raged between their homelands.

"I know you do not want to think about this from a negative perspective, Brady. Now more then ever, I can see why you would be resistant of any thought of battle between Nero and Mucche. But it is an option we must consider. Philip could very well deny your peace treaty. In fact, as much as I hate to say it, it almost seems inevitable. Let us not forget, that it has been quite a long number of years since Chloe was taken from the Kiriakis Palace and taken in to slavery. She looks completely different now, no doubt, from what she looked like when she was but eight years old. Aside from her word, there is really no physical proof that she is in fact Chloe Kiriakis," Jason pointed out.

"Even if King Philip did believe, it is very likely that he would still deny the treaty of peace," Miriam spoke out, not the first time this evening. She usually held her tongue when attending meetings with her father, as she was glad to just be allowed to attend at all. But tonight, she felt more inclined to speak up. Though her father would most likely scold her for it later, Brady seemed encouraging of Miriam's insight when she'd spoken up while Brady's council were present. And Jason had always told her that she needed to be more outspoken if she expected to be a leader one day. Now was as good a time as any. "I mean no disrespect to your fiancé when I say this, King Brady, but the Kiriakis family is not exactly known for rational thinking. Even if King Philip believes that Chloe is his long lost twin sister, he might hold such a grudge against you-- and, in turn, her for siding with you-- that he still denies your marriage as a symbol of peace. There is no way of knowing whether your presence in Mucche, even if under a banner of peace, will be accepted or not."

"You are quite right, Princess Miriam. There is no guarantee that we will be welcomed," Brady agreed rather solemnly.

"That brings us to another concern," David started, after he had given his daughter a look which only she understood the meaning of. "I have heard no mention of who will escort you to Mucche. As far as I have heard it, only yourself and your fiancé are going before King Philip."

"That is correct," Brady replied.

"But that's absurd! I do not mean to question your judgment, Brady. I respected your father before you, and I see much of him in you. But you can not really mean to go unarmed into the very heart of your enemy's fortress, to approach a man who has made no effort to hide his contempt for your family," David stated.

"But you see, David, that is part of the message I am trying to convey. I do not wish for Philip to be seen as my enemy any longer," Brady replied. David nodded, understanding. But still he would not let up, and he did hope that the others would back him up.

"I understand that, Brady. I really do. But as a King, you must be willing to look at every situation from every angle. I know you wish to appear sincere and embracing in Philip's eyes, but you must understand… there is a possibility that he would try to have you killed on sight. He does not after all know anything of the reason you are coming to him. As far as he is concerned, Chloe disappeared years ago, and I imagine he probably assumes her dead just as everyone else had. And, if he is anything like his father Victor, Philip will probably see your approaching of the Palace as some kind of trick to kill him. I do not think it wise for you to go alone. I honestly wonder if you and Chloe should go at all. And I do not mean that I do not think peace should be called for between Nero and its allies and Mucche. I simply mean that, perhaps it would be wiser if you sent a messenger to Philip, requesting that he meet with you in a secured location under a banner of truce. A few men from each side could be present. I am sure that I speak for all of us when I say that even Jason, Shawn and myself would be more than willing to attend then, should proper precautions be taken. But this idea of yours to just show up in Mucche…"

"Is unheard of, I know," Brady finished. And perhaps it was. Any other person in a similar situation would have insisted upon methods such as David had described. But his situation had been unheard of from square one. Calling for a meeting under a banner of truce just seemed like the wrong way to go about this. Philip would deny that meeting, and then of course after that, he would be on his guard, looking for him to pop up at any moment in an attack. Going to Mucche unarmed and alone, although reckless, just seemed like the only solution. Somehow, though he had not shared this with Chloe, Brady just felt like… like Philip was expecting their arrival. Brady had shaken it off; he always got feelings that turned out to be completely false. Because of his belief in his connection with his mother who had long since passed, Brady often took feelings that he had far too seriously. But this feeling, although surely it meant nothing, he just believed that he could not take lightly.

"Well," Shawn started, "if you are insistent upon going to Mucche the way you are, unannounced, then perhaps you should consider taking along some guards. They could be disguised, as your driver and footman perhaps. It would only be two men to protect you should things go wrong, but two armed men would be far better then no protection at all." Jason and Harold, who had been quite silent since he finished gushing about how good it was Brady was finally taking a wife, both nodded in agreement.

"Yes, if you insist upon going in to Mucche the way you are, a few armed guards would be quite the improvement. And I think you should allow at least one of us to go with you."

"No," Brady said firmly. "This is something I have been meaning to bring up all night. I do not think any of you, nor your men and kingdoms, should have anything further to do with this situation," Brady said, and he could tell that David was about to speak up in protest. "Please, do not speak yet. I realize that I am the one who came to you for help. But that was before. Things have changed now. What has happened in the past few days has taught me that this is no longer anyone's concern but my own. This affair is left between Nero and Mucche alone… No, it is between the Black and Kiriakis families alone now, and I will no longer put anyone else in harm's way. Far too much pain and loss has been caused as it is, and I was wrong in bringing you all in to this tangled web of bloodshed."

"You most certainly were not," Jason, the most defiant of the three kings, spoke rather harshly. "You know as well as I that this matter pertains to us all. Mucche is no longer satisfied with going after Nero and its people. Rubino has already become a target, or have you forgotten that that is how Chloe came to be here? If Philip would go after Rubino, it is only a matter of time before he strikes on Arcadia and Supervisore as well. Why then should this not be an affair that we all must be concerned with?"

"Because of Chloe," Brady answered. "She is the key factor in this whole matter now. I truly believe that is why she has been sent to me, by whatever force was good enough to send her. She alone has the power to stop this war. And if Philip should deny her as his sister, then there is not one among you who could bring about the end of this ceaseless conflict."

"I do not believe that, Brady. Perhaps alone we can't bring the battles to an end. But together, we can. You wouldn't have called us all together if you didn't believe that at some point," David stated.

"Then what do you suppose we do, David? It is not conceivable to leave your troops out in the fields wherever you may have stationed them. So you can not possibly mean to leave them there, waiting to see if we are going to continue our opposed battle or not. As it is there probably are not enough supplies. My kingdom could house some of them, but not enough to launch a full-scale attack. And surely you realize that if Philip turns us away, he will be expecting a battle, and will be prepared. Our surprise attack will be useless," Brady stated, perhaps a little more harshly then he had intended. "I know that it is wrong of me to ask this of you, as it was I who called for your involvement in the first place. But all I can offer you now is compensation for the funds lost on preparations for the battle which will not happen. And it will not happen, I can assure you of that. At least not at my hand."

"We don't need your money. We have done what we have done because we believe in the cause. You know, Brady, a King is not supposed to allow his emotions to cloud his judgment. At least not a good King," Jason said harshly, although he really did not wish to offend Brady. He was just angry at how ridiculously Brady was handling the situation.

"Jason, do not be so cruel," Miriam scolded.

"What Jason means, I am sure, is that, even though you may love this girl, love Chloe very deeply, you should not allow your feelings for her to get in the way of doing what is right. It does not take an oracle to see that you are resisting any physical confrontation with Mucche because of what you believe it will do to Chloe. And that is natural Brady; it's natural to do anything within one's power to protect the people one loves. But, you have to remember, as unfair as it may be, you are a King, and there are many countless people who depend upon you to keep them safe. Their lives, Brady, are in your hands. Please, I beg of you, don't allow more hardship to befall them. I know you are only trying to do what you feel is right by your love. But, as a King, you should be doing what is right by your people. It may be unfair, but that is the way life must be," David stated. Brady shook his head, standing abruptly from the table.

"I will discuss this no more tonight. I will leave it up to you what you decide to do with your men, but I think it best if you withdraw them and send them back to their homes, or to their stations, wherever it is they have to go. If you truly are concerned that Philip will deny our peace treaty, then you are free to stay in the Palace until Chloe and I have returned from Mucche. It would be pleasant to greet you all upon my arrival, especially if I bring bad news. But from now on, your actions are solely at your own discretion. As far as I am concerned, this discussion has ended. I will see you all upon my return, God willing, if you should decide to stay," Brady stated, turning to leave. Shawn quickly stood, catching Brady by the arm. He could see a new emotion in Brady's eyes, one that the others did not notice, and one that only he could understand. Brady was starting to get the same look he himself saw every time he looked in the mirror after Isabella's death. It was a look, far off, and unnoticeable by most, but still a very distinct look of pulling way. Brady was getting too involved in Chloe for his own good, and Shawn could not stand to see the same fate that had befallen him rain down upon his life long friend.

"Brady, please do not leave. We have much yet left to discuss. Please. We are only here to support you. Don't shut us out," Shawn pleaded. But Brady would not hear it, though he was touched by Shawn's general care for the situation. He had always been more understanding of him then the oft short-tempered Jason.

"I am tired Shawn. And not just physically tired from the day's long events. I am tired of the constant fighting, and I am tired of the constant worry. I do not wish to shirk my responsibilities, but I will have no more worry tonight. It is just too much for me. But as I have said, you are free to stay as long as you like. Consider my Palace like your second home. You may have free run of it as you will. Harold will set you all up in rooms for the night, assuming he has not already. And I would like you all to know that I will take your suggestions, at least on some aspects, to heart. Tomorrow before our departure, I will have Rex call upon his two best swordsmen to masquerade as our attendants. And now, I bid you all a good night." And there would be no further argument. Brady quickly retreated out of the conference room, and was back in the safety of his chambers before anyone could even think of following him, leaving five worried people left in the conference room to discuss Brady's behavior. They would stay for an hour more to discuss what they planned to do in Brady's absence. But Brady would think no more of business and duty. That was all he had been left to do for so long; why should it be considered wrong for him to take time to himself? Tonight he would merely hold his true love in his arms, and forget every other person on the face of the earth existed, even if it meant he might soon fall in to that vulnerable belief permanently. Nothing mattered, as long as she was there with him. And nothing would ever matter again if she was ever not there beside him….

"Oh Philip…" Jan whispered as she opened the door to Philip's chambers. It was very, very unheard of for someone of her class and social status in life to even be in the Palace unattended, let alone enter His Royal Majesty's chambers at will without being announced. But Philip had always let Jan have her way, so she had figured today would be no different. Unfortunately for Jan, however, today would be very different. "Oh!" Jan exclaimed in surprise as she was not greeted by the sight of Philip asleep in his bed or sitting up at his desk as she had expected; well, Philip was sitting at his desk, but this time, some sleazy blonde broad was sitting on top of it, giggling bubbly, trying not to sound like the whore that she was, at something funny Philip had said.

"Jan!" Philip snapped as he caught sight of her in the doorway, bolting up and slamming the door angrily behind her. He stared at her with a very disapproving, and very disturbing disgusted look as he yelled at her. "What in God's name do you think you are doing here? You are not even allowed to be in the Palace unless I summon you!"

"That just goes to show you what lousy security you have in your Palace," Jan snipped in return. Authority be damned. She let Philip have his way most of the time, but Jan was too proud to allow herself to be talked to in such a manner, although she did know her limits. Jan's face softened, and she reached out a hand to caress Philip's cheek, though the touch meant nothing emotionally. "Please do not be angry with me. I was only thinking of you. You were quite distressed last I saw you. I thought you could use some cheering up," Jan cooed. But her face hardened a bit again as she looked over Philip's shoulder at Cynthia, still perched up on the desk like a cat eyeing her prey. "But I can see you seem to have quite enough cheer as it is," Jan seethed. Cynthia grinned, hopping off the desk and coming up behind Philip, wrapping her arm around his waist. She too had no respect for authority; she did not even see Philip as authority, but merely a toy she liked to play with.

"Is this all your kingdom has to hope for in the form of a courtship, Your Majesty? I can truly see why you have chosen to stay unmarried," Cynthia cooed snidely. "A King such as yourself should not have to be reduced to fraternizing with cheap whores who so obviously live to defy you at every turn."

"How dare you!" Jan screeched. This coming from a woman who was perhaps more scantily clothed then herself, and who had attached herself to the person with the most power she could find, so openly flirting with him to get her way? Philip raised a hand to shush what he knew would be and endless rant from Jan, turning his head to face Cynthia, still with her arm around him.

"Lady Cynthia, there is no need for such talk. I know how to handle Jan," Philip stated.

"Of course, Your Majesty. Forgive my rudeness. Perhaps I should leave you to your… lady friend?" Cynthia said, giving Jan an impertinent glance out of the corner of her eye, and letting go of Philip, turning as if to leave. Philip caught her by the arm, turning her to face him.

"No no, there is no need. But if you will excuse me for just a moment, I will get rid of Jan. We have much more important things to discuss," Philip stated, while Jan seethed at how they were talking about her as if she wasn't standing right in front of them. Cynthia nodded, barely hiding her pleased smile as Philip turned to Jan, taking her roughly by the arm and shoving her towards the door. He stepped out in the hall with her, closing the door to his chambers abruptly behind him. "Do you intend to explain yourself, Jan, or should I simply have the guards escort you out?" Philip hissed. Jan jerked her arm defiantly away from Philip's grasp, flipping her long raven hair over her shoulder.

"I never needed to explain my actions to you before. Before tonight, you never questioned my motives for anything," Jan returned heatedly. "Why don't you explain to me what that… that tawdry hussy is doing in your bed chambers?"

"I do not have to explain anything to you, Jan. I am your King, and you are allowed here in my Palace with countless luxuries a woman of your status could never even possibly dream of because I choose to allow it. I do not owe you anything. It is you, really, who should owe me," Philip snapped. Aside from the moments prior to Jan's entrance when he and Lady Cynthia had been laughing together, Philip had been rather bitter--more so then he usually was at least-- since the news about Chloe arrived.

Jan crinkled her nose in disgust, her brow furrowed in slight worry. Philip had always had a temper, that was not what frightened her. Before now, Philip had never really taken his anger out on her, at least not verbally. She knew he used her for an outlet to his problems through sex; so what? Jan in turn used him to better her status in life. Sure, people in passing on the streets called her Philip's whore and a gold digger. But, since her father had perished in battle, and her mother had long since died of the consumption, Jan had grown up on the streets since there was no one to care for her. Being a King's courtesan was better by far then any other option she had left. But now, what Jan sensed from Philip's actions was not mere rage. Something unsettling had befallen him.

"What is the matter with you, Philip? What has changed so drastically that you would treat me this way?" Jan asked, trailing her fingers lightly down his arm in an attempt to clam him. Philip would not have that.

"For starters, Jan," Philip spat coldly, grabbing her roughly by the wrist, "you will not address me as Philip. If you are to continue to be in my presence, you will address me as Your Majesty, just as every one else in the kingdom. Understand?" Jan winced, barely keeping from crying out as Philip tightened his grip on her wrist. The anger in Philip waned as he saw the pain he caused her, and he let go of her, drawing his own hand back, while she drew hers to her as if she had just been bitten by a snake. Perhaps a snake bite would have been less painful. Her rather frail wrist was already turning bright red. Philip turned his back to her, facing his chamber door as if it were a window he could look out of to escape his own thoughts. Jan might be impertinent and disrespectful with a sharp tongue, but she was good to him. Very few people could tolerate his quick temper and ill manner like Jan could. "Forgive me. I mean you no discord," Philip said quietly, his strangely soft voice giving indication that he was truly sorry for the grief he caused her. Slowly, cautiously, Jan stepped up behind him, timidly wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder. Ever since she had heard of Queen Kate's death, and how Philip had pushed her--even if he had not meant to harm her-- Jan had been left to wonder if Philip was no longer to be trusted not to physically harm her. He'd always had a sharp temper, but never had he physically threatened her so. Part of her was telling her to just turn and walk away. If he did any real harm to her, no one would think differently of it. He was the King after all. But Jan would not turn away. She had been with him too long to give up on her goals now.

"Please, tell me what troubles you," Jan whispered. And Philip could almost swear she actually cared, for perhaps the first time in all their history together.

"I do not wish to discuss it," Philip said softly, closing his eyes sadly.

"You used to always tell me things. Before tonight… before she came along," Jan stated, referring to Cynthia who was still inside Philip's chambers, wondering what was taking so long. "You never had any problems trusting me before… even if I am just your whore."

"You are not 'just' anything, Jan. You're far too complicated to put a label on," Philip stated. And he really didn't mean that in a positive or negative way, it was just a statement. "This is far more complicated. You would not understand."

"Well, maybe I would have a better time understanding, if you would tell me something about it. Does it have anything to do with that… woman you were speaking with in your chambers?" And Jan used the term woman loosely; there were far more terms she would prefer to use for Cynthia. Takes one to know one, as they say. Philip nodded.

"Yes. Yes it does." Jan nodded as well, yet still resting her chin upon Philip's shoulder.

"She has done something to upset you?" Jan asked.

"It was not her actions that upset me, but the news she brought me," Philip said. He wished Jan would not persist so. He did not want to share any information with her. But Jan had always had a way of making him do as she willed. She had a strange power over him. Perhaps it was because he really was as weak as everyone else thought he was, and few other women would have anything to do with him even if he was King of Mucche. "Chloe is alive." Jan gasped, dropping her hold on Philip and stepping back, her hand over her mouth in surprise.

"But that is not possible," Jan whispered, almost to herself. The chances of that being true had to be slim to none… right? Jan took another moment to compose herself. "How do you know of this? I saw the marks on her; she bares the mark of the rebellion. The rebels have no one's interests but their own at heart. How are we to know that she is not simply leading you into a trap? She can't be trusted."

"I do not trust Lady Cynthia by any means, Jan. I am not that naive. But, I do not need to trust her motives to know what she says is true," Philip replied.

"But surely you must realize…"

"I must realize nothing!" Philip snapped, that wild, abandoned anger returning to his stare. Jan stepped back a step further, in fear that he would do worse then bruise her wrist should she incur his wrath again. Philip advanced upon her, grabbing her upper arms, and this time Jan did not try to repress her startled cry. "I am so tired of people telling me what I must and must not do! Do you think I am a fool? Do you think I am too incompetent to bare the crown?" Philip yelled, literally shaking Jan as he did so.

"No. No. I would never think that. Please, don't!" Jan pleaded. Philip pushed Jan away from him in disgust, and this time she did not think twice about fleeing. But Philip was surprisingly quick, catching her by the waist and shoving her against the wall before she even got two feet away.

"I am finally doing something for myself, and this is how you treat me? You outright call me a fool to me face? You dare to tell me, your King whom he should and should not trust?"

"I never said that. Please let me go." Jan was not one to beg, and she was not one to be afraid. But she had never been so frightened in all her life. It was not his actions, or even the pain that was pulsing through her caused by Philip's abusive touch that put such fear in her heart. It was the cold, dead look in those dark, empty eyes. The look as if he felt no remorse, and cared nothing for anything that he should harm. Perhaps it had always been there, but until now, Philip had fought it. But he did not seem to care enough to control that savageness within him any longer.

"Your Majesty, what is going on here?" Michael demanded. He had been speaking with a guard on post at the end of the royal hallway, but the hall curved halfway between the very end and Philip's chambers. He had seen nothing that had gone on, and neither he nor the guards had heard anything amiss until Jan cried out. Philip gave Michael a look of pure evil, as if burning a hole in his very being for daring to be so bold as to interrupt. But the slight bit of control he had left in him told him that this was a good thing. He did not hold any grudge against Jan. As always, he was just using her as an outlet. Perhaps this was a sign to allow the poor wretch to go. Even on the streets, she would probably be better off without him around. Philip could not control his emotions anymore. His mother's passing had weakened him. The distressing news about Chloe willingly being in Brady's company had broken him. Philip pushed himself away from the wall, feeling a momentary fleeting emotion of shame as he saw the true terror in Jan's eyes. Seeing someone like Jan, hardened by her life of injustices and cruel treatment, so terrified by him only weakened him more. Was he safe to no one?

"Michael, escort Jan out of the castle. She is never to set foot in this castle again, unless I summon her. If she is here without my permission, she is to be arrested. Is that understand?" Philip asked. Michael was profoundly confused, but he nodded his head, and would obey his orders.

"Of course, Your Majesty." Michael said, stepping forward to collect the terrified Jan. But before he did, Philip stepped up to her again, taking hold of her arm again, gently but firmly this time.

"And I will not call upon you again. Not ever." It was more of a promise. He might not have any true emotional attachment to Jan, but he would not harm her again. Philip stepped aside, allowing Michael to take hold of Jan's arm and lead her away. And she was glad for it. Her life would be less in danger if she were to take up her old job at Madame Satine's.

"Will there be anything else, Your Majesty?" It was the guard Michael was speaking to. He, as well as two other's stationed within hearing distance of Jan's cry, had immediately come forth to see what was the matter.

"No," Philip waved him off. "Return to your posts."

"Yes, Your Majesty." All three men bowed their respects, and quickly retreated back to their stations. Philip made quick retreat to his chambers, shutting and bolting the door as if to shut out the world. He was surprised to find Cynthia once again perched upon his desk. He had truly forgotten she was there, and he was now not very pleased to see her. "Lady Cynthia, please excuse me. I am no longer in a mood to entertain company. Would you please see your way out?" Philip asked as he made his way towards a couch that had been set up in his chambers to face one of the room's few windows. Philip always enjoyed looking out windows, perhaps more then he enjoyed actually being outside in what he was viewing. In the castle, he could feel safe, and yet still gaze through windows at the outside world, and feel a part of them. Philip plopped heavily down upon the cushion, burying his head in his hands and not looking out the window he so enjoyed gazing out of. But Cynthia would not leave. She was as persistent as Jan, but she believed she could go about it in a better manner.

"You seem quite distressed, Your Majesty. I will leave if you should wish it, but I have found that in times of great sorrow, it is best not to be alone," Cynthia said in such a sugary sweet tone that it was hard to believe that Philip would buy it for even a moment. But he seemed to as he did not shy away from her as she sat down beside him on the couch. "Which do you prefer? Shall I stay, or shall I go?" Cynthia asked. When he stayed silent and did not answer, Cynthia took that as her leave to go. She could get through to him later. But as she stood, Philip reached his hand out to hold her arm, firmly but not roughly keeping her from standing.

"Stay," Philip said almost inaudibly. And Cynthia hid her devious smile as she sank back down on the couch beside Philip. "Lady Cynthia, I am not so certain about this," Philip said once Cynthia was settled beside him again, her legs folded comfortably under her, the hand which had reached out and stopped her now resting upon her knee.

"About what?" Cynthia asked coyly.

"About Chloe." The seed of doubt had been planted by Jan's words, although they had not had the effect Jan had intended. There was no doubt in his mind that Chloe was in fact alive. But, given the strong reaction he had had to Jan, what possible violent act might he commit when Chloe did approach him, no doubt with her new love at her side. "Are you sure that this is the proper thing to do? I mean, she is my sister for God's sake. She is the only family I have left. I do not know how I could even consider turning her away as you have asked!"

"Then would you rather have to embrace your father's murderer in order to keep the sister who betrayed you?" Cynthia asked forcefully. Philip shook his head.

"Chloe did not betray me. Perhaps you have it wrong. Maybe you did not see what you thought you saw. Maybe he is forcing her against her will to stay there with him. Or using her to get to me. But it can not be her doing. It just can not be," Philip denied.

"Your Majesty… I have told you no untruths. I would not have told you that Chloe and Brady were in love if I did not have evidence of it. I have seen it with my own eyes. You can believe what you want, but I would hope that you would have at least that much trust in me," Cynthia stated.

"Why should I?" Philip asked coldly, but yet not in the same manor as he had snapped at Jan. He was tiring fast. He did not want to argue anymore. He just wanted to sleep, to escape his troubles through blissful unconsciousness. "You may have given me no reason not to trust you, but you have not yet proven that you can be trusted either. Just because you bring me news that my sister is in fact alive does not mean that you are on my side. What reason do you have that I should put such trust in you, when I do not even put trust in people I have known for years?" Philip asked. Cynthia stood, approaching the window which Philip would for some reason not look out today, perhaps because he felt undeserving of freedom.

"Perhaps because I have my own motives. Maybe I would like to see you rise to a power greater then anything you could ever imagine. Perhaps I wish to be at the right hand of the man who conquers all of Salem," Cynthia stated. It was laughable really. King Philip might have a decent army, but he hadn't the military standings to lead it. And because of his stubbornness, Michael was often limited in his decision making. The Mucchean army, even under Victor's strict rule, could have never managed to conquer all the lands of Salem. But, Cynthia would use whatever it took to lure Philip to do her bidding.

"I have no desire to conquer all of Salem," Philip hissed. "All I want is to have my family back!" And Cynthia knew she had him. She turned on her heel, settling down on her knees in front of him. And as tenderly as possible, she cradled his face in her hands, making him believe she could actually care for him and be kind to him.

"But you will never have that as long as Brady Black is alive," Cynthia whispered. "He has already taken from you everyone you hold dear. Why, you might even say he is responsible for your mother's death. And if not through him directly, then blame is set to rest on his father's shoulders. And now he would take from you the last person which you hold dear. Someone who you were not even aware could still be in your life. Do you really mean to let your sister slip through your fingers, when you've only just now discovered that she still lives after so many years?"

"No," Philip whispered, shaking his head. Cynthia lifted up a bit on her knees to rest her forehead against Philip's, further wrapping him in to her spell of seduction. "I will not lose her now. I can not lose her now. Please, Cynthia… please promise me that you will help make sure that I do not lose my dear Chloe. She is all I have. I can not bear the thought of her with him. Please, I will do anything that you should ask. Just promise me you will help me." And Cynthia did not hide her smile, or even attempt, as a cat-like grin spread across her face.

"I promise… we will do anything it takes to return her to you…."

"Thank you for coming so soon, Harold." Ioannis spoke quietly, ushering Harold in to the jail house and closing the door soundlessly behind him. Ioannis had been called upon by Rex during the announcement to help him jail three men and one woman who were suspected of treason toward the throne. Ioannis had no clue as to who they were or what they had done, or why Rex, King Brady's General, would wish to have them imprisoned. But, his father would have been greatly disappointed in him if he turned down the King's General in his appearance, so even though he felt that only bad would come from it, he had quickly moved to assist Rex in the arrest.

Rex had then requested that Ioannis send word for Harold, not wanting to worry the King himself with the matter. Harold spotted Rex in the corner at the desk which Ioannis had set up for himself, and immediately stepped towards him; Ioannis' note had failed to mention that General Rex was the one summoning him.

"General Rex, what is the meaning of this? Why have you called me here so urgently?" Harold inquired. Rex just waved his hand, motioning for Ioannis to get the keys to the jail cells.

"Come. I will show you," Rex simply replied. Harold nodded, knowing nothing else to do, as he trailed behind Ioannis and Rex as Ioannis opened the door to the jail cells. Strangely, all but one cell was empty now, which was unusual. Most of the other prisoners had been released after paying their fines, or moved elsewhere, for whatever reasons. But the one full cell was significant enough. "Mucchean spies," Rex said simply, pointing to the four extremely somber, and pissed off, people in the one cell. "They are King Philip's men. This one," Rex said, pointing to Abe Carver, "I recognized right off the bat. He is connected to the DiMera family, which has a borderline alliance with Philip. I found him and his partner, this one," Rex said pointing to Roman, "a few days prior, but I did not have means to arrest them all until now. I caught them this afternoon with this," Rex stated, handing Harold a rolled up scroll.

Inside the scroll was a written note, telling of "Arciana's" true identity that mentioned both the engagement and the peace treaty, which Eric had written as "so pathetically fake." Inside were also some documents which had been stolen from the Palace, including the rough draft copy of the peace treaty which Harold had thought he had merely misplaced.

"I believe they should be punished as traitors to the throne," Rex stated. "We will of course need to bring this to King Brady's attention right away."

"Oh no no no no no," Harold said repeatedly, shaking his head and thrusting the scroll back at Rex. "This is an outrage! We can not bring this to Brady now. He is going to discuss peace with Mucche tomorrow!" Harold exclaimed. "We can not bring this to Brady's attention now. It could ruin the peace treaty between the two families!"

"There will be no peace!" Samantha snarled from the cell.

"Our King will never agree to your pathetic terms. And once he discovers that you are holding us here like this, he will surely punish you all!" Eric added.

"Ioannis, you let them out at once. We can not hold them here, we can not jeopardize this union!" Harold demanded. He had never seen Brady so happy before in all his life. He could not allow his marriage to Chloe to be ruined over a couple of spies. "We can not hold them here for this!"

"No!" Rex commanded when Ioannis stepped forward to do as Harold ask. "Harold, you must understand… if these were Neroean people, they could be charged with life imprisonment or even death for treason. We can not just let these spies go. These four are a danger to our people. It is our sworn duty to protect those who can not protect themselves. If we can not protect the people from outside invasion, then who will? We have no choice but to hold them here. And we also have no choice but to inform our King of this new development."

"No. No we mustn't tell Brady of this. He has enough to worry about as it is," Harold stated. "We will hold them here for now. We will wait until after Brady returns to tell him. If the union should go through, then we can only hope that we manage to explain things to King Philip. And if the union fails… well then, Brady can decide their fate. But for now, at least put them in a more humane environment! All these cells are empty, there is no need to hold them together. And get some blankets in here for pity's sake, it's freezing in this place. We must treat them as best we can," Harold said.

"I'll call on my brother to help move them in to separate cells," Ioannis said, ushering them both out into the entrance of the jail house and firmly locking the door to the cell room. Harold nodded to him as he handed General Rex the keys and proceeded to head out to the house where he would find his brother. Harold too turned to leave, turning back for a moment to look at General Rex.

"Remember. Brady must not hear a word of this. It can not get out at all. And you see to it they are treated with respect. Traitors or not, we can not allow their imprisonment to upset the alliance," Harold stated. And General Rex nodded, Harold continuing on his way out, and both praying that nothing would go wrong, as they both so feared it would….


	11. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Brady opened his eyes just as the daylight was beginning to stream in from the windows. He stretched his arms across the bed with a sleepy yawn, still not quite used to waking up with someone else in the bed. But, once he was awake enough to remember where he was, Brady was surprised to find his arm hit nothing but sheets and blankets. Brady sat up on his elbow and turned to his side, where Chloe should have been laying, to find that she was in fact not there beside him.

"Chloe?" Brady called out, turning his head to look around the room as he sat up a bit more on his elbow. But she was no where in the room. But Brady was not concerned. Chloe had been quite restless last night. Brady was not even for certain whether she had slept at all. She was still awake when he finally gave in to the tempting words of Hypnos and closed his tired eyes.. Brady could not blame her for her nervousness. It was to be expected in a situation such as this. As he got out of the bed to get dressed, Brady thought back to the conversation they had had last night before he fell asleep.

"_Brady, I'm not sure I can do this," Chloe had said worriedly. She was turned away from him, facing the wall opposite of the balcony entrance. Brady had wrapped his arms around her then, pulling her close to him, and molding her into his embrace, his chin resting comfortably on her bare shoulder._

"_Of course you can," Brady had encouraged, and he meant it. "Everything is going to be alright."_

"_But what if everything isn't alright? I mean… the chance that Philip will even believe us is slim to none. And even if he does believe us, the chance that he will agree to our union is even smaller. He could send us away… or worse! I hate to think it, but Philip could have us killed."_

"_Yes… I will not lie to you, Chloe. The odds may be against us. But they were never in our favor, and look where we have ended up. Together, finally, after so many long, painful years," Brady pointed out. "I think that fate has brought us here for a reason, Chloe. And whatever that reason may be, and whether Philip is a part of our destiny or not, I truly believe that as long as we are together, nothing can harm us. I lost you once, I will not even bare the thought of losing you again. So, I have to believe that everything will work itself out if I work to achieve that goal. And I hope you can as well," Brady stated. "And besides… Philip is your brother. You are the only family he has left now. I would think he would want to welcome you. I know I would if I was in his situation." Brady momentarily thought of his sister Isabella. Philip, and most likely everyone in Mucche, had believed Chloe was dead. And now, she was returning from the dead so to speak. And Brady wished that could happen for his sister… as well as other members of his family lost before their time._

"_Maybe he would be accepting of just me," Chloe had started, turning on her side to face him. "But will Philip accept me, if is means accepting you too?" Brady sighed sadly, shaking his head. That was the one question that really mattered most, and it was the one question that would not be answered until they made it to Mucche to see for themselves._

"_I don't know. But… we will never know if we don't try. We can't live in fear and anticipation the rest of our lives."_

And that had basically been the end of that conversation. Chloe had told Brady he was right, and she had seemed to calm down her nerves somewhat. But she had never fallen asleep as far as Brady knew. Just as Brady finished buttoning his shirt and throwing on his vest, there came a knock at the door.

"Come in," Brady called, grabbing his belt. Harold peeked his head in the door, almost shyly.

"Are you and the little missus decent yet?" Harold called. Brady smiled, fastening his belt and waving Harold in.

"Chloe is not here right now. And it is not as if my being indecent would stop you," Brady stated, seating himself on his bed and grabbing his boots from under it.

"Hey, you're going to be a married man soon. I suppose that means I will just have to accept that I need to refrain from ogling the King. Besides, I like Chloe… would not want to get her hating me," Harold joked, stepping inside the room, but leaving the door open. "The carriage is ready for your departure. There are two footmen armed with concealed weapons, and General Rex will be disguised as your driver.

"No, not Rex," Brady stated, finishing with his bootlaces and standing up straight. "He would be easy to recognize, especially if General Michael should be in attendance. Best to get another solider on the job if you insist on sending so many guards with me."

"You still are not pleased that you agreed to take armed guards?" Harold inquired.

"No, I am not. If Philip should discover that we are not entering his city completely peaceful as we will tell him, then our message of peace will be lost. And should he really intend to have us killed, it is doubtful that three guards, no matter how securely armed, will be much of a match for Philip's entire fleet of guards and soldiers," Brady stated rather venomously.

Brady picked up his purple pendant-- a replica of Shawn's own treasured amulet that Shawn had given him many years ago as a sign of friendship and thanks for Brady's support of him after Shawn's parents' deaths-- and placed it over his head and around his neck as he spoke. He was not dressed as a simple commoner as he was when he normally adorned the accessory. Such a piece of jewelry was not usually worn by a king after all, which was why Brady was so fond of it. But he was not dressed in royal robes either. Actually, Brady rarely ever wore any traditional clothing, except in very rare occasions when he could not avoid it. He merely wore his own clothing style in the royal colors on most every day occasions. For this journey, Brady wore a black leather tunic over a white dress shirt made of fine silk and matching black leather pants, a very usual ensemble for him which Brady felt quite comfortable in. The clothes were not gaudy and stuffy, or warlike, if the occasion called for it, like traditional royal garments, nor were they ratty and dingy like the clothes he kept for when he wished to walk among the people as a commoner. These clothes were quite respectable, and just right for the occasion.

"But I suppose it can not be helped. Philip will surely reject a written proposal to meet. After all, whatever the proposal might say would seem ridiculous given the delicate nature of the situation. So the only way for this plan to work is to just make it into the city by surprise. I am just glad that Chloe does not know that we will be taking armed guards along with us. I do not imagine she would approve," Brady said.

"You are worried." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Harold could sense Brady's fear.

"Yes," Brady confirmed. "If this does not work… if Philip should reject our offer, I'm afraid it will kill Chloe. Philip is the only family she has left. She's gone through so much… I'm afraid Philip's willing and intentional rejection of her will be her undoing."

"Then, we shall just have to pray that King Philip is a far more reasonable man than his father before him," Harold stated. "We should be going now. You may already have to travel through the night to make it to Mucche in that carriage. It is not just a stepping stone away you know."

"Yes…. Chloe and I will take our time, to make sure we take the safest route into the city. But I should imagine we will be back by the morning after next, if things go as planned," Brady stated. "I will meet you outside. First, I must find my wife-to-be." Harold smiled and bowed his head, turning to exit the room via the opening door.

Brady checked his appearance in the full length mirror, running an ivory comb through his silky brownish blonde hair. He grabbed the two sun-dried leather pieces bound together with twine and papyrus--which Harold strangely had named a "briefcase"-- that held the peace treaty the Kings of the Alliance had devised the night before with Brady's council that Brady prayed Philip would sign. Brady made one more sweep of the room with his eyes to make sure he had not forgotten anything before he too exited the room, closing the door to his chambers behind him.

Brady had not made it three steps--he'd been heading for the gardens, thinking Chloe might be there--when he stopped in front of Chloe's old room. He marveled for a moment at the fact that he was actually able to sense that Chloe was inside, before he opened the door and entered the room. Brady smiled fondly to see Chloe sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed. The bed was littered with dress materials of varying colors and threads and sewing instruments. His smiled broadened to see Chloe's face. Harold must have gotten to her with his crazy inventions. Chloe was now wearing what Harold had called "miniature binoculars" until Brady had suggested the shorter term "eyeglasses" seeing as how they were made of glass with the intention to be placed over one's eyes. How Harold could complain so about Jack's crazy ideas, given that Harold's were just as equally far-fetched, was beyond Brady.

"Love the look," Brady stated as he set his "briefcase" down beside the doorway. Chloe, who had not realized he had come in, was startled by the sound of his voice.

"Brady!" Chloe exclaimed, jerking her head up in surprise. Brady laughed out loud, unable to control himself, at Chloe's comical appearance. Not only did her hair--which had been put up in a simple, messy bun--look frayed and wild, but the "eyeglasses," which were really quite large pieces of glass, made her eyes and pupils look huge. She looked like a mad woman. Chloe frowned, somehow adding to the cute, comical look. "Brady Black, just what the hell do you think you are laughing at!" Chloe demanded.

"Nothing, my love. I was just merely marveling at how blue your… colossal eyes are," Brady replied. Chloe gave him a questioning look, and so Brady gestured towards the vanity mirror. Chloe took one look at her reflection and bolted out of the chair, barely giving her enough time to throw the garment she was sewing onto the bed, and ran for the vanity. She immediately removed the "eyeglasses," blushing a brilliant scarlet red in embarrassment as she laid them down and attempted to smooth out her wily hair.

"My, I look completely mad!" Chloe exclaimed. It didn't help that she was in a simple dingy white nightgown type dress that looked like something patients in the asylum would be forced to wear. Brady shut the bedroom door and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and bending his head to place a gentle, sensuous kiss on her semi-exposed neck.

"I think you look stunning," Brady whispered, placing another kiss on her flesh.

"Mmmm… you're sweet," Chloe stated, seemingly lost in the sensuous pleasure of his touch. "A terrible liar, but sweet just the same. Are you going to continue to be this sweet once we're married, or is this all just a charade to hide your bitter ways?" Chloe joked. Brady placed his hands on her hips, twirling her around in his arms, a coy smile on his handsome face.

"I do intend to be this sweet when we are married. In fact, I am going to smother you in so much sweetness, love, and kindness that you are just going to be downright sick of me," Brady stated. He spoke in a playful manner, but the words he spoke were all truth. If he had his way, once Chloe became Queen Chloe Black, Brady planned to never speak a harsh word to his beloved as long as they both lived. But then, how could such a perfect existence ever be? "But now, in all seriousness, we must be going. It is going to take us long enough to get there as it is." Chloe nodded, extracting herself from Brady's embrace to walk over to the bed and retrieve her dress.

"I had planned to be dressed and ready before you woke up, but I got a little carried away. Look," Chloe instructed, holding the dress up in front of her. She pointed first to the sleeve. "I wanted to finish sewing the dress I started when I first got here. You know, to wear today. But I got almost done and an idea occurred to me. I thought it would be nice to sew the symbol of Mucche on my left sleeve, as sort of a peace offering," Chloe stated. The dress itself was of a burgundy crushed, velvety satin material, with black roses, complete with vibrant green leaves and stems, embroidering, starting from the left shoulder and working down in a diagonal pattern to the right hip. If the back of the dress was showing, you could see that the rose pattern continued straight across from the hip, across the small of the back, ending at the back left hip. The sleeves of the dress were long with a great deal of material left at the ends that formed pointy bell curves. On the right upper left forearm near the left shoulder of the dress was the Mucchean symbol stitched in white threads. "And this," Chloe continued, pointing to the right side of the dress. On the right, directly above where her heart would be was stitched quite a sight to behold indeed.

Each country of Salem--Mucche, Nero, Rubino, Supervisore, and Arcadia-- had just a symbol that was meant to represent the country and its people as a whole. But the royal family had something a little different. The country symbol was always taken and put on a shield; in picture or clothing form, the shield with the symbol was done in the country's colors, with a square background that was divided into four colors of the royal families choosing.

Chloe had taken the royal crest of Nero and the royal crest of Mucche and combined the two into one over her heart. Half of the squared crest was the shield of Nero, while the other half was Mucchean shield. Chloe had a beaming smile on her face that reached her eyes. Brady could tell she was very proud of the dress she had made with her own hands, as it meant both a sign of peace to Philip, and that she proudly accepted her role as the bond between two countries.

"It's wonderful, Chloe. I'm sure Philip will greatly appreciate the sentiment," Brady stated honestly.

"You think so?" Chloe asked hopefully. "I hope he is not offended by it…"

"I am certain he will not be. I know I would appreciate the thought if I was him. You must have worked your fingers to the bone to get this done in time," Brady commented. "The craftsmanship is quite amazing. Even the Palace seamstress would possibly take up to a week or more to construct something like this."

"Well, I have been working on the actual dress for a few days now. And I had a lot of motivation to get this done on time," Chloe replied. Brady nodded, understanding.

"You want to look your best to go in front of Philip," Brady stated. "And believe me, Chloe, you will. Even without a stunning dress. You're his family."

"Still, the dress won't hurt my appearance. And by the time we get there, maybe my fingers won't be so swollen," Chloe laughed, holding the dress with one hand and holding up the other hand to show. Sure enough, her fingers were quite swollen and red.

"Do they hurt?"

"No. I'm used to it. After … after the kidnaping, any clothes I had, I had to make. And I made my living in Rubino as a seamstress, so I'm used to sore fingers. They wouldn't even be this sore if I hadn't worked through the night," Chloe answered. Brady had really lost base with her words with the word kidnaping. Everything had worked out in the end, and he knew she was accepting of her past now, but Brady was still pained by the thought of Chloe in slavery for so many years.

"Well, come on then. You're not even dressed yet. And, although I think the look is just absolutely adorable, that hair style might be all the proof Philip needs to believe we're both insane." Chloe laughed at this, as did Brady.

"I do believe you're right. Just seeing my own reflection makes me wonder about my own sanity," Chloe said. She laid the dress back down on the bed, laying it amongst her slip and other undergarments she had laid out earlier. She began to lift the white dress over her head to change when Brady stepped forward, catching her hands. "Brady, what…"

"Um… you… you might want to, you know, go in the bathroom to do that," Brady said.

"Why?" Chloe asked, quite confused. "We are to be married, and it is not as if you haven't seen me before."

"Yes, I know. And as much as I would love to "see" you right now… if you were to change here with me watching… well, I might be rather tempted. And we are under a major time constraint, so…" Chloe laughed at his subtle hints, shaking her head and working her hands free of his grasp, gathering up her clothing.

"Alright, alright. I will change in there. I keep forgetting what a sex-driven pervert you are," Chloe teased. Brady grabbed her waist as she walked by him, pulling her body to his.

"I love it when you talk dirty," Brady teased, leaning his head down and nipping at her neck before planting another kiss on her soft flesh.

"Brady!" Chloe squealed, squirming to free herself of his grasp. Brady let her go with a sly smile on his face.

"Alright, go. Go, before I cave to my "sex-driven, perverted" urges." Chloe laughed, quickly disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door. Brady sat down on the bed to wait for her.

Knowing they had to get up early in the morning to leave, Brady and Chloe had taken a refreshing bath, together of course as Chloe had decided not to take the bath Harold had prepared for her until Brady was finished with his meeting. So all Chloe had to do was change and fix her hair. Chloe had mentioned how lucky she was last night while they bathed. As a slave, Chloe rarely was allowed to bathe, except when her master took her with him to the public baths, or when Lord Paul was away and Brandon allowed her to go to the public baths alone. Their little secret of course, as slaves were not allowed to be out without an escort, or some kind of identification with their owner's name that stated they were in fact allowed to be out. And in Rubino, the situation had not been much better. Since she was out on her own, she had to pay the fee to use the public baths, proving they were not so much "public" as they were "elite" for those who could afford the toll. And that was difficult on a seamstress's budget. And to bathe in the lake, the river's current being far too fast, would be cold, and would risk leaving you about as dirty before you bathed, not to mention the possibility of leeches. Living in the Palace, Chloe could have a bath--and someone to bathe her-- at a moment's notice. And Chloe would definitely not take that blessing for granted.

Ten minutes later, Chloe emerged from the bathroom, dressed and ready to go. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, flaring out at the hips. Her hair was done up high, but allowing locks of hair to flow down in wavy curls. She looked… breathtaking.

"Ready," Chloe stated with a bright smile. Brady stepped forward, taking her arm. Making sure to grab his "briefcase" from in front of the door, Brady led Chloe out the door and down the hallways, leading her out to the awaiting carriage. Halfway there, Brady spotted Shawn, coming out of the Palace kitchen.

"Shawn," Brady called. And Shawn turned his head towards him, hesitating before approaching Brady and Chloe. "Shawn… look, I… I want to apologize for…"

"Brady, there is no need. I understand. It is a stressful time. You go on, and do not worry about a thing. We will all be waiting for your return. We can talk then," Shawn interrupted.

"Thank you, Shawn. I will see you upon our return." Shawn nodded, and Brady and Chloe continued about their way. The carriage was waiting, the two armed footmen and a new driver, which Chloe assumed were just ordinary servants, waiting for them. Brady helped Chloe into the carriage, giving the two "footmen" a look which might have said something like "just keep a low profile." Once Chloe was safely in the carriage, he too stepped up into it, and the first "footman" closed the door behind them. The two "footmen" took their place on the carriage, and with a wave from Harold, who was standing outside at the castle gate, the carriage started off on its way to Mucche. And Brady and Chloe, holding hands inside the carriage, both said a silent prayer to God to watch over them on this monumental journey……

When Chloe and Brady finally entered the city, which was surprisingly very lacking in security, the sun was once again breaking over the mountains, signifying a new day. There was a small village, which really only consisted of two farm houses and a storage tower for crops, located in the mountain chain. The village was isolated from either country, though it lay more on the Mucchean side of the mountain in a place where altitude was not a problem for the two families that inhabited the area. This little two family village was seen as neutral ground. The excessively large storage tower held far more food and supplies than the two families needed, so it made a great place to stop when making the long journey between the two countries.

Very few people, however, aside from spies, rebels, and the DiMera family ever made the journey, so the two families were quite welcoming of company, especially given that this particular visit was of royalty. Chloe and Brady had stopped there for food and rest so they could arrive in the city in the morning instead of late at night. The stop had given them the opportunity to get a fresh bath, although they both stayed in the same clothing, and Chloe had been able to redo her hair, being as altitude had not been kind to her stylish hair.

"Brady, something doesn't feel right," Chloe stated worriedly, squeezing his hand for support. Brady nodded; he felt it too.

"I know. I mean, I had hoped the carriage would not be immediately seized, but I had never expected this. It is almost as if there is no security at all." Of course, Brady, as well as his three guards, knew that wasn't so. Well hidden guards were all along the mountain pass upon reaching the Mucchean border. But, although Brady was certain each and every one of them must have seen the carriage, despite the fact it was on the safest known passageway, none of them had made a single move to approach them or seize them.

Now in the city, there were more troops, who were not hidden from even untrained eyes, to be seen here and there. Yet still no one stopped the carriage as it approached the heart of the city. Townspeople, at least for the most part, did not even bother to look up as they passed, even though Brady knew they must have known that they were not Mucchean. Soldiers passing on the streets barely paid them notice, and the carriage had stopped in front of the Palace before anyone even seemed to notice they were there. The draw bridge began to lower for them, as if their arrival was expected.

From inside the castle, Philip emerged, dressed more regally than he might have ever been in his life, although he was not wearing traditional long flowing royal robes. He was surrounded by four armed guards, and six more guards emerged from behind him, lining up along the sides of the draw bridge should their King need protection, although from their debriefing earlier, they knew Philip would be in no danger. Once the carriage was stopped, the two "footmen" hopped down from their posts, one opening the door, and the other holding out his hand to help Chloe down first, and then Brady stepped down on his own. Neither of them saw Cynthia, who was hiding in the shadows in the Palace from where the extra soldiers had come from; watching and waiting where she could see and hear all, but they could not see her.

Philip drew in a sharp breath when he saw her. God help him, he wanted nothing more then to forget everything Cynthia had instructed him to do and rush up to her and embrace her. Chloe was exactly as he would have pictured her; the stunning creature before him could not be anyone else but his beloved long lost sister. But seeing Brady emerge from the carriage and stand beside Chloe was all he needed to wipe those thoughts from his mind. Philip stood strong and unwavering, doing his best to appear like the king they never believed he could possibly be.

"What business do you have here in my Kingdom, _King_ Brady?" Philip asked, stressing the word king with a very sarcastic note. Of course he knew Brady's intentions, but he couldn't let Brady know that. Chloe's resolve wavered a bit, and she had to grab on to Brady's arm for emotional support. Philip's tone was so cold. How could she possibly get through to one who had closed himself off so?

"We have come to speak with you, King Philip. We wish to extend to you a message of peace," Brady replied, his voice as stern and strong as Philip's, but not nearly so cold. Unlike Chloe, he was not fearful of the many guards which had immediately surrounded them. He didn't believe they wouldn't attack them of course. Such beliefs could prove fatal. But he sensed that they would not have been allowed so easily into the city if Philip's only intention was to have them killed. Plus, Brady's 'always-two-steps-ahead' mind had already spotted the weak points in the guards surrounding them, and had more than one escape route planned should the occasion call for it.

"Most intelligent rulers send messengers to campaign those kinds of messages, Brady. Generally proves less deadly. A good ruler would know that. What reason do you have that I should not just strike you dead at this very moment?" Philip inquired, waving his hand to the guards, which caused them all to unsheathe their weapons, pointing them directly at the offending party.

"Philip, no," Chloe pleaded. That voice… God above, he remembered that angelic voice. Chloe was about to step forward, which caused the "footmen" and "driver" to involuntarily move for their own weapons, but Brady held her arm tightly, forbidding her to step forward.

"True peace can not be obtained without trust. We have come to you with complete trust in the hopes that we can settle our differences," Brady replied.

"Complete trust, aye?" Philip inquired smugly. Michael, and his two men he had hiding behind where he knew the carriage would stop, came forward then, seizing the guards and exposing their weapons. Chloe's eyes grew wide, and she gave Brady a very disappointed, almost hurt look. "I am not the fool you think I am, Brady. I would have to be mad to actually believe that you would come in to my Kingdom completely unarmed. Either that, or you would have to be." Brady let go of Chloe's arm, and boldly moved towards his three guards. The driver had already been forced down from his seat onto the ground beside the others. Michael drew his own sword as Brady grabbed his driver's sword, but that was not all he went for. He removed every single weapon from the three men. Every sword, and every dagger. Brady then took the supply of weapons and turned towards Philip, throwing them all down on the wooden draw bridge with a disturbing clatter in front of Philip and his guards.

"Neither you nor I are insane or stupid. Your family has not exactly given me much reason to completely trust in my safety, or the safety of those around me. But I am going to go out on a limb here. I stand before you now, completely unarmed. You can do what you will, but all I ask is that you hear us out. What can it hurt you now? We are not a threat without weapons, you know that," Brady stated. Philip, as discreetly as possible, looked over his shoulder as if to ask Cynthia with his eyes what he should do. He wanted to just kill Brady on the spot and take Chloe in to the castle where they could be a family again. Cynthia, though Philip could barely see her, nodded her head, urging him on. Philip waved his hand again, signifying for the guards to lower their arms. But Michael still had his men keep hold of Brady's guards, making sure they truly were not a threat to his king.

"You have exactly one minute to convince me that I should not kill you on the spot," Philip stated, although he knew he would not be killing Brady today. Cynthia was right; the best way to kill Brady was to take everything he loved first. Brady nodded, stepping back to Chloe's side, where she, not thinking about it of course, seemed to shy away from him a bit, that look of disappointment not gone from her face. The exchange did not go unnoticed by Philip, and he was very pleased to see Chloe begin to turn away from Brady, though he did not know that that wasn't necessarily the case.

"I submit to you a treaty of peace, signed by King Shawn of Rubino, King David of Arcadia, and King Jason of Supervisore, as well as myself. We four nations have agreed to set aside all our differences, and band together. We wish Mucche to be a part of our alliance. We all have seen enough blood shed in our days to last one hundred life times. We wish to put an end to that now," Brady stated, his voice still strong, although Chloe's shying away from him had deeply hurt him. He had known she would react badly if she knew, but now was not the time.

"And what reason do you have that I should join this alliance? I care nothing for the kings or the countries you speak of. What should their wishes matter to me?" Philip inquired. "They are but mere stepping stones to me. Stepping stones, to get to you. And I have you now, so why should I care what the Kings of your alliance desire?"

"Yes Philip, I know they mean nothing but gaining vengeance to you. That is what I have come here to stop. Our kingdoms have been at this so long, we have forgotten what started this senseless war. Can't you see what it has done to us? We are ruled by our hatred. I have much reason to hate you and your family, and you have your own reasons for hating my family. But I stand before you today to put an end to this hatred. And I offer you a resolution to the one sin committed to you that should never have happened," Brady stated. Chloe did allow him to hold her hand now, as she needed his strength to allow him to press on. "I bring before you a peace offering. I bring to you, upon her own free will, Princess Chloe Kiriakis, and the future Queen of Nero." Philip would not have wavered if it had not been for Brady's second declaration. Cynthia had failed to mention that Chloe and Brady were so in love that he would propose marriage to her after knowing her for only a short time.

"I have heard many dirty tricks and lies in my time, Brady," Philip began. "But that is perhaps the most cruel joke I have ever heard. That is cruel, even coming from you, the man who murdered my father and my brothers. My sister Chloe is dead, taken from me because of your father's hatred for my family. This girl you bring before me… she is nothing but a pawn in your ploy to bring me down."

"No Philip, please you have to believe us…" Chloe stepped forward, out of Brady's reach, to approach Philip. Immediately, the first guard on Philip's right advanced, sword drawn, at Chloe.

"No!" Philip commanded as the sword was pointed at Chloe's throat. Brady advanced, kicking the sword out of the guard's hands and pulling Chloe protectively to him. But Chloe paid no heed to the near-threat on her life, and she merely waved Brady off, pulling herself out of his arms. She was watching Philip only, and his reaction to her life being put in danger.

"You do believe us," Chloe stated.

"Of course he does." Cynthia emerged now from the shadows, a cat-like satisfied grin on her face as she hooked one arm through Philip's. "But he had help of course."

"Cynthia," Brady sneered.

"Nice to see you too, Your Highness," Cynthia said sarcastically.

"I should have known you were a traitor."

"Quiet!" Philip commanded, seemingly displeased with both Brady and Cynthia. Philip disengaged himself from Cynthia's arm, taking a step towards Chloe. "Yes, it is true. I knew you were coming long before you ever reached the city gates. I knew you'd come, and now, seeing you in the flesh, I know without a shadow of a doubt who you are." Philip paused for a moment, contemplating his next statement. "You… are a traitor."

"No… no, I'm…"

"Do you deny that you are to wed my greatest enemy? Do you deny that you share a bed with the very man who killed our father?" Philip asked harshly.

"But… I'm not a traitor. I still love you, you're my family! This is all so we can be happy… all of us. My marriage to Brady will mean a union between our countries. That is why we came here," Chloe stated.

"Is that what you hoped to accomplish, my dear sister?" Philip asked, his tone dripping sarcasm, although there was no real venom behind the words. "Well, Chloe dear… you have failed."

"Philip, please…" Chloe looked so desperate, so sad, that Philip almost caved. But he wouldn't give up now… he'd gotten this far, he could continue until the end. Brady stood by and watched the display between the long lost twin siblings, knowing he could do nothing to stop the display.

"How dare you? How dare you come here now, after we spent so many years trying to find you? Worrying night and day that you were being tortured, or that you would be killed if we didn't find you. Where were you when our parents began to hate each other? When the pain our mother was feeling distanced her from the family who needed her love, from the child who deserved her love. Where were you when our mother's grief finally overtook her and she lost her own life? Where were you when our father was murdered?" Philip asked forcefully, nearly screaming, and yet still cold and strong. "How dare you come here now… now, with that man," Philip stated harshly, pointing accusingly towards Brady. Chloe was nearly in tears now, a cold chill at Philip's cruel words raking through her body.

"I couldn't be here, Philip!" Chloe proclaimed, making no effort to try to hide her pain. "I never wanted to abandon our family… I didn't ask to be taken in to slavery!"

"No, no I suppose you didn't. But can you deny that you willingly stay in the company with the very people that are responsible for your life in slavery?" Philip asked, looking at Brady with daggers in his eyes.

"Brady had nothing to do with that, Philip," Chloe pointed out, knowing exactly what he meant. "He was just a child too, like us. He helped you escape, don't you remember?" Philip seemed perplexed for a moment. He didn't have any memory of Brady as a child. But yet, he felt he should….

"What does it matter?" Cynthia interjected, fearing she was losing Philip to Chloe's words. "It doesn't affect the outcome. Brady's father still kidnaped you and sold you into slavery because of his own selfish desires. If his father could be so evil, then of course Brady could."

"Yes… yes, he could. Even if what you say is true, even if Brady was the one that helped me escape… that still didn't save me. I would have been better off if I was just allowed to die in slavery," Philip spat. "I have lost everything… and all that I have lost, all that was denied me, can be directly linked back to the two of you."

"Do you think you are the only one who suffers?" Brady interjected. "Do you think you are the only one who has felt pain? If you honestly believe you are the only person who has been wronged here, then perhaps you are as ignorant as I first thought you were," Brady spat. "We have all experienced loss. All three of us have been wronged. Chloe was robbed of a normal life. You were robbed of the love of your sister, and the love of your mother and father. I was robbed of my family's love as well. At least you have memories of your mother, Philip. We have all experienced pain… we are all the same." Philip would hear no more of it. To think that Brady would dare compare his so called pain to the wrongs that had been committed to him was just unheard of.

"Philip please… I love you. You're my brother, my family. Can't we please put all this hurt behind us and be a family? If you would just sign Brady's peace treaty… we could be a family again," Chloe pleaded. "Please... I'm your sister." Philip stepped forward now, and the emotionless expression on his face sent more chills up her spine then Chloe ever believed imaginable. He came right up to her, and stood there for a moment in silence, not moving a muscle. Without warning, Philip reached up his hand, grabbing Chloe's left shoulder roughly, and yanking off the sleeve of the dress Chloe had been so proud of that adorned the Mucchean symbol. Not a sound could be heard at that moment except the awful ripping of the material as Philip ripped off the entire sleeve at the seam. He threw the material hatefully on the ground, spitting on top of the symbol which Chloe had lovingly sewed the previous morning.

"I have no sister," Philip stated, his voice like icy daggers piercing her very heart. Chloe backed away from him, shaking her head, willing him with her mind to take it back. She backed into Brady's waiting arms, and did not even attempt to fight the tears as she collapsed in her lover's embrace. Philip's resolve did not waver; he wouldn't allow it to. "Guards, get these people out of my sight. Since you had such "faith" in me Brady, I will in turn allow you a break. You and your… _fiancé_," Philip started, using the term fiancé loosely, as he could not bring himself to say the word he knew Cynthia would have preferred him to use, "are free to go. But let it be known, from this day forth, if either one of you sets so much as one foot on Mucchean lands, you are to be killed on the spot. I do not care whether it would be fair combat or honorable death. You have been warned, as everyone here will testify. Now go, and take your ridiculous peace treaty with you," Philip demanded, turning on his heel to retreat back in to the Palace. He could stand the sight of his heartbroken sister no longer. He might have appeared cold on the outside, but inside, he was dying… he could feel her pain, and his own as well.

"Philip, don't do this," Brady warned, holding the sobbing Chloe tightly in his arms. "You can't do this Philip."

"I can do whatever the hell I please. Guards, get them into that carriage and get them the hell out of here," Philip ordered. The guards did not hesitate. Michael literally shoved Brady's driver back onto his perch, and Chloe and Brady were ushered, at sword point of course, into the carriage. Philip could still hear Chloe's sobs as the footmen returned to their places, and the carriage began to pull away, turning back onto the path from which it had come. And Brady did not see the devastated look on Philip's face as he glared out the small carriage window at the blur that was Philip as he trudged back into his dank, lonely castle. Although she really could not care less, Cynthia reached out a hand to touch Philip's shoulder in comfort, but he jerked away from her, brushing roughly past her to retreat to the solitude of his chambers. Cynthia grinned mischievously as he walked away, turning her head to watch Brady's carriage as it slowly began to make its sad way back to the mountains, where it would deliver sad news indeed to the people waiting for its return……

The hour had grown very late by the time Brady and Chloe's carriage entered the city. They had not even bothered to stop in the little mountain village for a rest. Neither of them had any appetite, nor did they wish to have any company with others. Chloe had eventually fallen asleep in Brady's arms. Not because she needed sleep in a physical sense of course, but merely because her eyes had grown so tired from crying.

"Where are we going?" Chloe asked. She had been awake the last few hours of the trip, choosing to just lie silently in Brady's arms and stare out the small window. She had just now noticed that they were not heading for the Palace any longer.

"I don't know about you," Brady replied, "but I personally am not ready to go back to the Palace and face anyone just yet." Chloe nodded, sitting up straight, knowing they were going to Brady's cabin instead and would be there shortly. "I thought we could spend the rest of the night in the cabin and head back to the Palace tomorrow." While Chloe had napped, Brady had instructed his driver to take them to the cabin, giving him directions, not to the actual cabin of course, but to the field in front of the secluded, hidden cabin. The carriage pulled into the empty field now and came to a halt.

"Your Majesty, are you sure this is where you wish to be?" The driver asked, peeking his head around and into the carriage's cab which held Brady and Chloe, and giving Brady a very confused, questioning glance.

"Yes, Steven, I am certain," Brady replied. The two other men, Jareth and Henry, opened the carriage door, one offering Chloe a hand to help her down. "You three are free to return to your families now. You can leave the carriage and horses here, I'll take them back to the Palace when I am ready."

"But, Your Majesty, Councilman Wentworth instructed us to alert him immediately when we returned." Brady could tell Steven was worried he would be punished for leaving his King alone, unattended and without weapons in the middle of a field in the outskirts of town. Steven was a simple yet brave man who worried constantly about the well-being of his wife and children.

"You have nothing to worry about, Steven. You answer to me, not to Harold. I will not hold it against you if you carry out my wishes, and neither should anyone else," Brady stated. Steven bowed his head respectfully, jumping down from his perch on the driver's seat of the carriage onto the ground to take his leave.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Steven replied. The three men turned to take their leave, each having quite a distance to walk before they reached their respective homes.

"And remember," Brady halted them with his words. "You are not to tell anyone where we are. Should anyone ask, you will tell them only that you were carrying out your King's wishes, as any citizen who loved his country would do." All three of them nodded, understanding, and turned again to walk away. They were all loyal men, which of course was why they were chosen to accompany them on this important, but dangerous journey. And not a one of them would reveal Brady's location.

"They will all worry about us, you know," Chloe pointed out as Brady took her hand to lead her to the cabin which was hidden behind the thick bushes from the view of people who did not know the land as soundly as Brady did. "They will most likely assume us dead."

"That might be considered a blessing. If they assumed us dead, perhaps we would finally be allowed some peace," Brady stated solemnly. Chloe did not have to see his face to know he was frowning. The same disappointed, sullen look had been on her own face ever since Philip made his declaration. "We will ease their minds tomorrow. Besides, Steven and the others will undoubtedly inform the council we are alright. They will not reveal where we are, but they will be too fearful of the council's wrath to not at least inform everyone we are alive and well… or, alive at least." Brady led Chloe through the rest of the field and into the hidden clearing. It was dark of course, although the twinkling stars and full moon helped light the way. But then, Brady did not really need the light to move around this place, his true home.

"What about the carriage? They may put out a search party for us, and if they find the carriage, they will find the cabin," Chloe pointed out as he led her across the wooden-plank bridge over the stream surrounding the house and up the steps.

"I will movie it into the clearing and unhitch the horses once we are settled," Brady replied, pushing the doorway open and revealing the pitch dark house. Brady silently led her inside, seating her on the living room sofa since she wasn't used to the dark house like he was. Without a word, Brady set about lighting candles in the cabin. He had the living room, kitchen, hallway, staircase, and the upstairs bedroom and bathroom illuminated within moments.

"It has been a long day," Brady said as he descended the staircase after lighting up their bedroom. "Why don't you get ready for bed while I take care of the carriage? I'll get us something to eat in the morning. I will need to head into the marketplace to get feed for those horses anyway," Brady stated.

The horses that pulled the carriage had been fed and watered in the little mountain village. But, since they did not stop on the return trip and had no horse feed with them, the tired animals would be starving by tomorrow. Brady would have fed them tonight, but all the markets were of course closed. And he of course could have simply waited and taken the horses back to the stables tomorrow to be fed. But Brady did not plan on leaving the cabin any time soon, and the poor creatures deserved a good meal as soon as possible. Besides, the royal stables kept only the same kind of feed. The animals could use something different. For now, Brady had found two apples in the kitchen. They weren't fresh of course, rather they were sun dried, but they would do.

"Chloe?" Brady inquired when she did not seem to notice he had spoken. She was still seated on the couch, staring off at the dark window in front of her with a blank expression. Brady placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, a worried expression on his face. Chloe looked up at him now and forced a smile, reaching her hand up to squeeze his hand.

"Go on, get the carriage in. I'll be fine," Chloe said. Brady nodded, taking the two apples he found and heading for the door. Chloe stood now, making her way up the stairs to their bedroom.

Twenty minutes later, Brady returned to the cabin. He had taken the carriage into the clearing, and unhitched the horses. He had fed them what little he had and then taken them around the back near the waterfall to drink from the stream. Brady had then tied them up in the clear field area beside the waterfall to keep them from munching or trampling on the flowers around the cabin. Brady ascended the staircase, opening the door to his bedroom, expecting to find Chloe either in bed or brushing her hair at the vanity mirror. But she was nowhere in sight.

"Chloe?" Brady called into the empty, illuminated bedroom. No answer. Brady stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him. He knew she was not downstairs. He would have seen her if she had been anywhere down there. The bathroom door had been left slightly ajar, and Chloe's torn burgundy dress hung on a hook on the inside of the door. "Chloe?" Brady called into the bathroom. But still no answer. Then he heard it. A soft sigh, followed by a muffled, choked sniffling sound as if someone was trying desperately to hold back a sob. The balcony door was also slightly ajar, so Brady approached it, knowing Chloe must be out there.

There he found her, standing alone against the balcony railing, staring up blankly at the stunning night sky. The full moon and bright twinkling stars illuminated her pale skin, and even though the light also showed the puffiness around her eyes more clearly, she was more stunning than the perfect, cloudless night sky. She was dressed only in her slip now. She really hadn't the energy to look for something that fit her comfortably in the clothes that Brady's sister had left in the cabin. The spare blanket from the bathroom counter was wrapped around her to quell the chill of the night breeze. Her hair hung loose around her, dancing around her face carelessly. She had not even bothered to brush out the curls, so her hair was left wild and free for the wind to do with it what it would.

She did not turn to face him, nor did she even seem to acknowledge his presence. But Chloe knew he was there. Brady approached her, wrapping his arms around her from behind in a comforting, supportive gesture. Chloe broke down again then, though this time not as violently as when she had wept openly in Brady's arms at Philip's Palace. Tears streamed down her cheeks where she swore she had no tears left to shed, but she allowed Brady's embrace to give her a strength only he could provide.

"Please don't cry," Brady whispered pleadingly, holding her protectively to him. With each tear she shed, another part of him died. It killed him to see her in such pain, so destroyed. It killed him all over again to have to bear the knowledge that he could do nothing to ease her suffering. Brady could not just feed her a lie about everything working out in the end. He couldn't tell her everything would be alright. Nothing would be quite the same now.

Chloe had lost the last hope she had today. Philip, the only family she had left in the world, had taken her offerings of peace and love and spit on them. He had taken her hope, her very faith in humanity, away from her and thrown it down on the cold ground without a moment's regret when he ripped the Mucchean symbol off her dress. That pain could not be taken away with a few meaningless, false words. She would be lucky if she ever got over the cruelty which had been bestowed upon her today. There was a long, hard road ahead for them, they both knew that.

"I can not stand to see you cry," Brady whispered, not knowing what else to say.

"Brady, what are we going to do?" Chloe asked, attempting to calm her sobs. She hated this, hated not being able to stop these wretched tears. Chloe could not even remember crying this much the first time Lord Paul had beaten her. But truthfully, Chloe would have rather taken a physical beating from Lord Paul than the verbal abuse and cruel accusations from her dear twin brother. Lord Paul meant nothing to her; Philip, on the other hand, had been her entire existence for the first eight years of her young life. She was no longer crying now, but the evidence of her latest outbreak of tears still remained.

"I don't know, Chloe. I just don't know," Brady replied sadly. "But whatever happens next… we will face it together. I promise you that."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Chloe said, a chilling, bitter bite entering her tone. She had not forgotten about the armed guards which Brady had failed to mention he was taking along with them. She knew he knew what she would say to that. Chloe did not want to dwell on it. She knew in her heart that Brady was a good man, and had only wanted to protect her and himself, though not for his own safety, but for the well-being of his people. But, she had grown up, at least for a time, in a family that was known to cheat and lie, especially to their own kin. A Kiriakis trusted no one, a lesson she should have remembered before embarking on this pointless mission to reunite herself with her long lost brother. Chloe could not bear the thought of Brady keeping this from her, least they end up with the kind of relationship her parents Katherine and Victor had endured. She had made the mistake of keeping her true identity from Brady in the beginning, but she did not want such things to go on any longer.

"I do intend to keep that promise," Brady returned sternly. He turned her in his arms to face him, and she could see for a brief moment a hint of anger and hurt in his eyes. But when he saw her tear-stained face up close, his eyes softened and any resentment he felt about her statement faded as quickly as it originated. He began to stroke her cheek with the pad of his thumb, wiping away a few stray tears. "No one short of Death itself is going to separate me from you, as long as you will have me. I can not promise you I will always be at your side. I can not control when God, or whoever it may be that decides such things, decides that it is my time. But, as long as He sees fit to leave me on this earth, I am going to remain by your side. I love you too much to let you go again."

"I know you do," Chloe sighed, turning once again to look out over the balcony railing, Brady's hands still resting on her slender hips.

"Chloe… about the guards…" Brady knew her, even if they had only been in each other's company for a short time. He knew what she was thinking, and he knew that she was not happy with his decision.

"Brady, don't," Chloe interrupted, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done. I understand you have certain obligations that require you to take every step necessary to insure your safety and thus the safety of your people. Let's just leave it as it is, and not mention it again." Chloe was used to burying her own thoughts and feelings deep inside. She was just too tired, both mentally and physically, to discuss it tonight. And to dwell on the subject long enough to allow them to discuss it later would be more painful than the actual act itself. "I think I am going to go to bed now. Are you coming?" Brady shook his head, removing his hands from around her and moving to the side, taking his own place looking out over the railing.

"No. I think I will stay out here for a time yet. Enjoy the cool breeze and the night sky. I'll come inside when I'm ready, and I'll try not to wake you," Brady replied. Chloe nodded and silently made her way back inside their bedroom, closing the balcony door behind her. Brady rested his hands on the cold iron railing, peering down at the dark ground below, a sad expression on his face, and an even deeper sadness bearing down on his soul. Chloe was only a few feet away, just now climbing into the bed they would share. But, no matter how close she was physically, Brady never felt such a chilling, distressing distance between them…..

Blood. Everywhere, there was blood. Deep scarlet red pools of it, engulfing the land of Nero and staining it red. Dark storm clouds were rolling in from the east. Lightning cracked violently, racking the land with horrid, frightening sounds. No… it was not just lightening. There was something else…

Suddenly, two swords clashed together below her, and the blood pools engulfing the land became bodies. Dead bodies that were littering a battlefield. Everywhere there was death, and blood, and fire. The castle was burning. Faces of dying men were all blank and blurred together as one… She could not tell who was who. Swords clashing, men screaming, the deafening pounding of war horses' hooves pounding on the blood soaked ground, bones cracking… All the sounds that make even the most hardened of war veterans cringe or cry out in their sleep, all clashing together in the mass of destruction. All the while, she could hear a whirling sound. Not loud, of course, but the death and fierce lightning played second fiddle to the mysterious noise. Along with the whirling sound that stood out among the other muffled and confused noises, she could hear a heartbeat. Fast and furious at first was this beating heart. But gradually, the sound began to slow; the heart still beat, but almost as if in slow motion.

The whirling sound gave way to a sickening crunch, and one man fell. One man whose face stuck out among the others. And she was allowed to see this first face, as the slow motion beating heart stopped altogether. Harold, with an arrow in his back that went straight through his noble heart.

Now, a cry of anguish sounded out above all the others. Swords clashed, faceless men fell, as another who stood out forced his way on foot through the battling crowd. A horse reared up on its hind legs with a loud neigh, possibly more chilling and frightening than a human war cry. This war horse's owner, the third to stand out among the crowd of hundreds, sounded out his own fierce war cry before charging for the other who was on foot. The horseman's blade was raised high, and with one swift thrust, made contact with the man on foot's neck, slicing his head off like a warm knife to butter. And the severed head rolled with nauseating thuds over the bloody ground because of the sheer force of the blow as the body fell. As the head came to a stop among the littering of corpses, she was allowed to see the second face which had stood out among all the others. Michael, his eyes wide and his mouth twisted in a final painful cry.

The whirling returned, the same kind of nerve-racking sound as before. And the heartbeat started out slow this time, pounding louder and louder with each passing second. Out of nowhere, an arrow appeared, penetrating the heart of the horse which carried the man who had been Michael's end. The horse reared, bucking its owner off onto the ground below. The horse fell over in its dying panic, pinning its wounded owner down against the ground and leaving him vulnerable. All the while the heartbeat got louder and slower. A faceless solider approached and, with a strange cry, drove his blade into the chest of the man who had killed Michael. And now, as the slow, loud heartbeat came to a screeching halt, she was allowed to see the face of the third person who had stood out among the others. Rex, the enemy's blade sticking out of his chest, pinned helplessly under his slain horse.

A new whirling sound began to be heard over the mayhem, this one somehow different from the last. A new heartbeat began to sound, fast, furious, and irregular, unlike the heartbeats before. The scene with Rex and Michael faded to that of another, where a fourth face stood out among the crowd. This man had no sword, and was helping a woman up off the ground who had been unfortunate enough to find her way into this strange, destructive, almost causeless battle. This new whirling gave way to the sickening sound of bones cracking and shattering, and the man trying to help the woman fell. And, as the heartbeat faded, this one slower than the ones before as if the death took longer, she was allowed to see the last face which had stuck out among the crowd. Shawn, blood trickling down his chin from his crimson red lips, a dagger in his back which had penetrated his lungs.

The color faded from the entire scene, leaving only the color of blood which had been cruelly spilt over the once beautiful land of Nero. The sounds of swords clashing, people dying, buildings burning… all began to fade until there was nothing. Only a silent, colorless battlefield remained, the faceless creatures still fighting on in horrendous silence. But the sounds of the raging storm still remained.

Up on the eastern hilltop stood a lone figure. Dark storm clouds swirled behind her, and lightning flashed around her. All the darkness seemed to radiate from her, as if she alone was cause to the mayhem below her.

Silhouetted by the dark storm clouds, and in full color, stood Chloe, dressed in a tattered, blood stained burgundy dress--the same dress she had worn in front of Philip. One sleeve was of course missing where Philip had torn it, while the other was now shredded, leaving only bits and pieces of it on Chloe's arm. The long burgundy dress was torn in all sorts of places, and one solitary gash in the dress across her stomach stood out among all the other small and large tears. Chloe's cheek was smeared with fresh blood, and her eyes were wild and fiery. Those eyes were more frightening now than the raging storm behind her, as she watched the battle below. And in her hand, which was soaked in fresh blood, was a sword covered in blood from tip to hilt. Slowly, the color began to fade from her as well. Her tattered dress and wild, free hair turned white as snow, and her pale skin became paler still.

The sounds of the raging storm began to fade as well, until there was no sound and no color, except that of the blood which soiled her now white dress and pale skin. There was, however, color within something she had not noticed before. Chloe's wedding ring rested in full color on her right ring finger.

And suddenly, the ring slipped off her dirty, blood-stained finger, falling in slow motion to the ground below, where it clattered to the ground next to her bare right foot with a deafness that sounded louder than anything else she had heard before it. And from where the ring landed, a pool of blood began to form. When the puddle got too large, it began to spread, making its way with disturbing slowness down the hilltop, staining everything it touched red, and turning it all to dust. And surely, if no one stopped it, the crimson blood would engulf the entire land of Nero and turn everything and everyone within the once great city to dust….

Chloe awoke with a jolt, bolting up into a sitting position. She could see nothing. Nothing except darkness and blood. But as her mind caught up with her body and she remembered where she was, Chloe calmed herself. The room was dark because it was not quite yet morning. And there was a haze to the room, which Chloe had imagined was red simply because of the graphic nature of her nightmare, because a few rays of light were beginning to slowly stream in through the window curtains and reflect off dust particles in the air.

Once she was aware of her surroundings, Chloe's hands immediately traveled to her right ring finger. Of course it was bare. Brady had taken her engagement ring back to the royal jewelers before they left for Mucche to have the sapphire set and the final engravings done. When her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Chloe looked down to see she was still in her slip, covered by a blanket and wrapped in the safety of Brady's bed. She turned now to his side of the bed to face him, finding that he had not been awoken by her sudden jolt. But he was not sleeping soundly either. He had not been disturbed from his sleep, but he had a vexed, uneasy look on his handsome face.

Chloe hesitantly lay back down, taking only slight comfort in knowing he was beside her. After such a disturbing dream, Chloe could not see how it would be possible for her to go back to sleep. Something bad was coming. She knew it. Chloe could feel it in the pit of her stomach. This had not just been a mere random nightmare. Trouble, and hardship, were on their way to pay them all a visit. And Chloe could only lay awake and pray for someone to watch over them, to insure that the destructive consequences of Chloe's nightmare, its origins and reasons unknown, from ever coming to pass……


	12. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Nightfall had come and gone, but Philip had not moved from his throne, exactly where he had seated himself after Chloe's carriage had disappeared over the horizon. After he had made his show of retreating into his castle, Philip had gone straight to a window to sadly watch the carriage pull away. He had stayed and watched long after the carriage had disappeared from sight. All the while, he prayed for the carriage to turn around and yet cursed it for ever gracing his sight.

Philip would have retreated to his own room, but he honestly had not had the strength to make it that far. He felt he would collapse into tears at any moment, and that feeling sickened him. He was a grown man for Heaven's sake! And yet he was cowering under the weight of his problems like a scared child clinging to his mother's skirts. Only he did not have a mother anymore… at that very moment, with Chloe believing he hated her, Philip had no one.

Philip had crumbled into his throne, giving orders to be left completely alone. And he had sat there in his throne, taking slight comfort from the one place he felt he still held power, and stared off at nothing in particular, thinking of her. The sun had set and risen again before Philip even realized any time at all had passed.

Her sobs haunted him. He tried so hard not to care. He tried so hard to hold on to the anger he should have been feeling towards her. She had taken everything from him, including the love of his mother and his father that he so desperately craved. And she had cursed him to a shameful life as the butt of everyone's jokes because he was the incompetent one and she the poor, brave soul who was wronged by King John. And after all that she had betrayed him becoming his enemy's whore. And yet, Philip could not hold on to this anger. After all was said and done, he still loved Chloe so. She was his twin, his other half… most would say his better half. When he had thought her gone forever, it was as if a part of him was gone as well. And now that she was back, even if she believed he hated her, Philip was starting to feel whole again. But the thought that he might have ruined that forever when he listened to Cynthia's seductive words scared him so. Philip did not know what he would do if he lost Chloe again.

Philip was even too heartbroken to feel anger towards Brady. Not even the sight of Chloe collapsing into his arms for comfort and support brought him any resentment or anger. Perhaps he was just getting soft. So much had happened in so short a time. But whether he was being ignorant and childish or not, Philip was hurting just as much as Chloe was. But she could never know that. She could never know how Philip truly felt. At least not until Brady Black was out of their lives forever…

"Your Majesty?"

"Yes?" Philip responded tiredly, far too exhausted, both physically and mentally, to be angry at being disturbed.

"Pardon my intrusion, Your Majesty. But Lady Cynthia wishes to speak with you," Michael stated. Cynthia had been granted pretty much free reign over the Palace. She could go where she pleased when she pleased. But Philip had still insisted she be announced beforehand if she wished to approach him just as any other. Philip might be in a depression, and he might be at his weakest, but he was still a King and he still demanded respect.

"Send her in," Philip said wearily. He did not really wish to see her. He did not wish to see anyone. But he could not wallow in his own self pity forever. To do so would drive him completely mad.

"Right away, Your Majesty," Michael said, bowing his head. He disappeared for but a moment, reappearing now with Cynthia in tow. Cynthia was dressed in a tight black dress. On anyone else, it would have appeared classy or elegant, but the amount of cleavage the two-sizes too small dress showed off made it just sleazy. Her usual wicked "I always get my way" smirk graced her face. Michael had tried to send her away, but much to his dismay, Cynthia had insisted she would not leave until Philip said whether he would see her or not. And she knew well enough that Philip was too deep in her seductive enchantment to turn her away.

"Leave us," Philip commanded of Michael and the other guards in the Throne Room. They all left without argument, promptly closing all the doors to give them complete privacy. By now, news of Philip and Jan's last confrontation had spread through the castle in full, often embellished detail, and not a one of them wished to infer that wrath again. "What did you need, Lady Cynthia?"

"I thought we should talk. Now that you have turned Chloe away, it is time to discuss what is to be done next," Cynthia replied. Philip nodded. He would much rather avoid the subject altogether, but perhaps getting this all over and done with as soon as possible would bring him some peace.

"Yes, of course. Have a seat," Philip instructed. There was a seat besides his throne. Not exactly another throne, as if one for a King's Queen, but it was a seat of power. Michael or one of Philip's council members would often be seated next to Philip during conferences with foreign ambassadors or the few serious trials which Philip himself was required to attend, such as murder investigations. There had once been a second actual throne where Queen Katherine had sat. But when she and King Victor had their falling out so to speak, the throne was removed so as to not give a seat of ultimate power to a lowly Council Member or General. Cynthia gladly took the seat besides Philip, seeing it as a sign that he really was completely under her control.

"Are you sure you are up for this discussion, Your Majesty?" Cynthia asked very sweetly. She did not give a damn either way. She had known he wished to be alone, but patience was not always a virtue of hers. But she needed Philip to believe that she only had his best interests at heart.

"I really have little choice in the matter now," Philip replied grimly. "I will be fine. Let us just get on with this plan of yours. The sooner it is executed, the sooner Brady will be no more, and the sooner I will have my sister back."

"Just as it should be," Cynthia stated.

"Do you have a strategy in mind, or were you merely waiting to see how my confrontation with Chloe would turn out?" Philip asked.

"Oh, I have had a complete, flawless plan in mind since before I even came to you with the news of Chloe's arrival in Nero. I knew just how everything would work out," Cynthia stated boastfully.

"Quite confident in yourself, I see. Do you plan to share your theories, or do you delight too much in holding this "flawless" plan of yours over my head?" Philip asked. Cynthia grinned wickedly. Of course she delighted in playing with his simple mind.

"The plan is really very simple. If you wish to truly make someone suffer, you must not take a direct approach. To make Brady pay for his crimes, and the crimes of his father before him, then you must first take from him that which he loves most," Cynthia stated matter-of-factly.

"And just how am I to do that? He has no other family now, no one really to speak of except Chloe. How exactly am I to take that away from him when I have denounced her as my sister? She won't willingly come here to me now. So what else is there?" Philip asked.

"That's easy," Cynthia replied, her wicked smirk even more satisfied than before. "We kill her."

"Wh…what did you say?" Philip asked, a shocked and completely dumbfounded expression on his face. He must have heard her wrong. Cynthia could not possibly be suggesting that he have his own sister, his own flesh and blood, murdered in the name of vengeance against Brady Black.

"You heard me. To punish Brady, we will have to kill Chloe," Cynthia repeated.

"Are you mad!" Philip boomed, lunging out of his chair. Not at her though. He could not even look at her. He began to pace fiercely back and forth in front of his throne. "You can not possibly be serious! To think that I would harm my own sister…my own flesh and blood, the only family I have left… it's preposterous! What happened yesterday caused her emotional pain. But I could never, ever, cause her physical harm!" Cynthia rose from her seat, approaching Philip as he ranted. She snaked her arms around him from behind to quiet his ramblings.

"You did not allow me to finish, Your Majesty," Cynthia cooed. Philip closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly to calm his own nerves. "We will see to it that Chloe is killed… or at least that is what we shall have the esteemed King of Nero believe."

"What do you mean?" Philip asked. Her arms were not tight around him, and yet he felt as if they were huge serpents, wrapping him in their coils and squeezing the very life out of him. The embrace was as meaningless as when Jan held her arms around him. But Jan had never truly held any power over him. Yes, she had had free reign of the Palace much like Cynthia, but that was merely because of Philip's desperate need for someone to have some kind of companionship with. So, Jan's embrace was merely comforting, whereas Cynthia's was stifling. Having Cynthia's arms around him made him feel as if she was controlling him in a way that could bring him nothing but hardship.

"You want Chloe at your side, do you not? And so, you shall have that, just as you deserve. You have spies in Nero, correct? Surely you can know when Chloe is alone, unguarded."

"No, I had spies in Nero. But they have all gone missing it seems. Whether mutiny or by King Brady's hand, I am not sure," Philip interjected. His spies had apparently gone missing quite some time ago, but Michael had just recently taken it upon himself to share that vital information with Philip. With Cynthia's news, Philip had not put much more thought into his disappeared spies.

"Then you can get new informants. Ones that are better and more loyal than the others. Get them to get Chloe alone. Have them lure her away… to the river maybe. They can seize her and bring her here to you. But it will not be a mere kidnaping…not to Brady at least. To get Chloe all to yourself, you must make it look as if Chloe has been killed. Drowned, strangled, stabbed to death… whatever you can stage, just make it look as if Chloe has been killed," Cynthia stated. "Once you get her here, keep her in secret. No one can know she is here. Only you and I, and whomever you choose for this important mission should know. That way the word can not get out that Chloe is truly alive, and you can keep her hidden away so you can make her see that she does not really love Brady. You can tell her that she was merely under Brady's seductive lure perhaps. And then while Brady is distracted by his grief…"

"I go in and finish him off once in for all," Philip finished. "That sounds perfect… so long as you can swear to me that no harm will befall Chloe."

"Nothing will happen to her, I swear to you. Our only concern is to punish Brady. What you do with Chloe once she gets here is totally up to you. You just make sure you choose informants which you truly trust with your dear sister's life," Cynthia stated. She unraveled her arms from around him, stepping back and slinking down into her seat, imagining that it really was a throne indeed.

"When should we put this plan of yours into action?" Philip asked, turning around to face her now. The scene looked as if he was the commoner campaigning his Queen seated upon her royal throne. Philip did not realize the impact the gesture held; Cynthia, however, did notice, and was quite pleased.

"Whenever you see fit, Your Majesty. If I may make a suggestion, however?" Cynthia was not really asking for permission to continue. She held all the cards here. She would be the one that would guide his hand from that moment on, and she knew it. But she figured she should give him such formalities. She did not want him to figure out just how much power she had over him after all. Philip nodded his head, waving a hand to bid her to continue. "We should wait, for a time at least. Right now, right after you made your declaration refusing the peace treaty, Nero will most likely be on high alert, and so the Palace security will be too much for your guards to get around. If we wait long enough, Brady will let his guard down, leaving us the opportunity to take Chloe. For now, let us just concentrate on calling for new, more trustworthy citizens to keep an eye on the Neroean Palace and bring Chloe to you." Philip nodded.

"Agreed. If you will excuse me, I would like to discuss this with Michael. I will want him to pick his most trusted men to carry out this deed for me I know he can be trusted. Feel free to stay here as long as you like," Philip stated. He approached the throne as if to retrieve something, although there was nothing there that he needed. Standing in front of his throne, Philip turned his head to face Cynthia, a cold, stern expression on his face. "But remember, Lady Cynthia. If she is harmed in any way, big or small, I will hold you responsible," Philip warned, showing he was not yet fully controlled by her charms. There was still some authority in him yet. Cynthia's cool, calm face did not waver, and she smiled despite the growing concern within her.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Cynthia said coolly. Philip was satisfied with the gesture, believing he had made his point clear. He left the Throne Room now via the same doorway at the front of the Throne Room that Michael had passed through minutes before.

Cynthia rose from her seat, a lesser throne in her eyes. Checking first to assure that no one else was watching, Cynthia stood in front of Philip's much grander throne, gracefully seating herself in the seat of ultimate power within Mucche. She made herself quite comfortable in the throne, molding herself to the symbol of supremacy as if she alone was meant for it. A wicked grin crossed her haunting face as she closed her eyes and pictured herself dressed in royal robes and being praised by her subjects as the Queen Cynthia knew she was meant to be.

As a council member, her father held power in Nero. But nothing could ever compare to the power she could wield as Queen of an entire country. But with Philip's help, whether he was aware of it or not, Cynthia would not just have power over one nation. No, she would have it all, just as she deserved. All of Salem would bow to her every selfish desire…..

Chloe sighed sadly as the castle came into view. The sun was low in the sky now, the mid-afternoon sun casting shadows on the grand, gray walls of the Palace somehow only making it even more uninviting to her. Chloe had not wanted to leave the cabin at all. The confrontation she knew would be awaiting them was just too much to deal with right now. But Harold and the others would be worried to death as it was. So after they had dressed and eaten, and the horses were fed and the cabin cleaned up, Brady and Chloe had left their safe haven for the uneasy confinement of Palace life.

Chloe had eventually managed to fall into a restless but thankfully dreamless sleep that morning. Brady had apparently awakened not long after she drifted back to sleep. But he had let her sleep through the morning, not waking her until the sun was already high in the sky. Despite how much sleep she actually got, Chloe woke up feeling very tired, as if she had barely slept at all. And Brady, not in a very good mood himself, it seemed, had seemed to pick up on that.

Even though she felt he was in no better shape then herself, Brady had awakened Chloe with a smile. He greeted her with a lavish breakfast in bed. Fluffy, flaky biscuits, raspberry and strawberry jams, fresh toasted breads, bountiful fruits, both dried and fresh, and other such delicious breakfast foods graced her plate in amounts far larger than she could ever eat. Brady had gone all out when he visited the marketplace that morning. Even the horses had been granted what was probably the best meal of their entire lives.

It was just fortunate for them that the merchants in the marketplace were so generous, at least where royalty was concerned. Brady had little money on him. He always kept a small amount in the cabin for when he desired to feel like a normal person rather than King. But he had spent most of that the last time he had gotten breakfast for Chloe from the marketplace, and had not remembered to restock the little jar he used for storing money, something his step-mother Marlena had said her peasant family had done when she was a child.

But the merchants this morning had not cared. Since Brady was not disguised in peasant clothing as he normally was when going into the city, the people had recognized him with ease. They all waved away Brady's offerings of money, claiming that to have his esteemed grace honor their humble stands with his presence was far better payment than all the gold in Nero. Of course, none of them honestly meant it, but Brady knew those merchants would probably sell out of their wares today. Before he could even leave a stand with his goods, people were flocking to the stand to buy the goods which their King deemed worthy.

After her breakfast, which Brady had not shared with her, claiming he had eaten while she slept, Chloe was also treated to a hot bath. She had to use a tub Brady had set up outside behind the house since the cabin did not have the advanced plumbing system that the Palace had, but Chloe had not minded. It was a beautiful day after all, even if her thoughts were troubled. Brady had left her alone to her bath as well, stating he needed to clean the cabin before they left. The tub was big enough for the two of them really, but Brady had bathed before waking her. And Chloe was grateful for that. It was not as if she did not want to be around him. And she greatly appreciated his kind treatment of her. He was trying so hard to make her feel better and to make up for the grief he had caused her. But Chloe's troubled thoughts and memories of her disturbing dream still kept her from wanting to be around anyone. She was too troubled to even wish to be around her husband to be.

Aside from when he woke her up and took her down to her bath, Chloe had seen very little of Brady. He gave her her breakfast, then left to heat her bath water over the fire he had built in the fireplace. Awhile later he returned just long enough to take her plate and bring her downstairs, and then he was gone again to clean up the cabin and see to the horses. Brady was not intentionally trying to avoid her she knew. He would not be doing all these kind things to help ease her mind if that was his only intention. But he did not appear to be very happy, and it was as if he sensed that she wished to be alone.

They had set out for the Palace once she was dressed. Brady had also brought her a new sky blue dress so she could wear something fresh and unsoiled. Her ripped dress was lain across the seat inside the carriage, though she was unsure whether she would chose to fix the torn ensemble or not. Brady had hitched the two horses back up to the carriage that morning and was now on the driver's perch. He had wanted Chloe to ride in the carriage. She had only been on an actual horse once in her life after all, and the driver's perch was up even higher than if she were on horseback. But Chloe had insisted on riding beside him. The carriage was too confining she had said, and she wanted to be a part of the beautiful day. It was, after all, one of the only good things about the day thus far.

"Ho! The King approaches! Lower the draw bridge!" A guard from one of the watch towers at the Palace entrance shouted upon sight of the carriage. The draw bridge was lowered, and six soldiers immediately filed out to greet their king. They first helped Chloe down from the high driver's seat. Then as Brady too dismounted, they took up the horses' reigns.

"Unhitch the carriage and take the horses back to the stables. They have already been fed and watered," Brady instructed.

"Yes, Your Majesty," one of them replied. With that the six soldiers led the carriage away to return it and the horses to their rightful places.

"You're back!" It was Harold, looking rather frazzled, and Brady could swear a few more stress lines were now present on his face. He hustled quickly out of the Palace from where the soldiers had emerged. "Where have you been! We were all worried sick!" Harold scolded, glaring at them both disapprovingly.

"We were…"

"Oh, never mind that!" Harold interrupted as Brady spoke. Harold was quite fortunate he did not serve a king like King Victor Kiriakis. Victor would not have stood for such words being spoken to him. But Brady was used to Harold's… strange ways. And he was a close friend all the same. "Come come, we have much to discuss." Harold began to usher Brady and Chloe inside the Palace now. "Did Philip…" But he did not really need to finish his question. He could see by the disappointed, distraught look on Chloe's face that their mission had been unsuccessful.

"No. No, Philip did not sign the treaty," Brady stated. And he would elaborate no more. Harold nodded, a sigh of disappointment escaping his lips. He had feared as much.

"Right then. Well, come along then. Everyone has been anxiously awaiting your return. They are all waiting for you in the conference room."

"Chloe… why don't you go on to our room now? Believe me, you do not want to go in to that conference room. A room full of stuffy, grumpy, stubborn old men is far too bad a torment for us both to have to go through it," Brady stated as they began to make their way down the hallways towards the conference room. Chloe wanted to go with him. She believed if she had been present at the last meeting, she could have prevented the armed guards from accompanying them to Mucche. But she felt that Brady would most likely be insistent on this matter.

"Oh! I've forgotten my dress anyway. I'll just go down and ask where the carriage was taken," Chloe said, remembering that she had left her torn dress inside the carriage.

"All right. I will meet you later when all this is over with. I'll come and get you if anything important should be brought up. But knowing my council, I doubt it," Brady stated, attempting to lighten the mood. Chloe forced a smile though it did not reach her eyes.

"All right, I will see you after the boringness is over and done with. Harold." Chloe nodded in his direction as a means of goodbye, and Harold nodded back, smiling at her reassuringly. With that, Chloe turned around and began to walk back the way they had come, hoping she managed to find one of the soldiers who had taken the carriage away. Maybe that dress was not a symbol of peace and unity to Philip, but Chloe could not bear to just throw it out. A part of her, buried deep within the pain in her heart, still had some hope that everything would work out as it should, even if the pessimistic side of her kept telling her it would never be.

"She is really hurting," Harold stated.

"Yes, she is," Brady replied sadly.

"And so are you." Harold always was very insightful, although perhaps a blind man could see how much pain he was in. Seeing her suffer so, and trying so hard to hide it, made his heart ache. "Are you sure that you are up to this right now? It can wait. Shawn and the others have promised not to go anywhere yet until it is decided what is to come next. Messengers have been sent to their people. Everything is alright here. It would not hurt to wait a few more hours if you need time."

"No, there will be no more waiting. I am fine, Harold, really. It's Chloe I'm worried about. That's why I sent her away. I can handle this. But I appreciate that you care," Brady replied.

"Well if you are sure… there are many things that need to be discussed. Your time in Mucche is not all that needs to be brought forward," Harold stated, thinking back to the four individuals who were imprisoned in the local jail. He had checked on them earlier that morning. They were being treated very well. Hell, they were eating better in jail than most of the law-abiding peasants were. But Harold was still skeptical of leaving them there. Each time he had visited, they did nothing but demand to be let out, and curse them all, proclaiming Philip would never allow this injustice to go unpunished. Harold had started to doubt his decision to not inform Brady of their capture the moment the carriage had pulled out of sight. But that was, unfortunately, over and done with. What's done was done, and it could not be undone. Brady looked at Harold questioningly, but before he could inquire what Harold meant, they reached the conference room. "Here we are," Harold proclaimed, pushing open the conference room door.

"Brady!" Jason exclaimed upon seeing Harold and Brady in the doorway.

"Oh thank Heavens it's you!" Shawn exclaimed. Harold allowed Brady to go in first, and once he was inside, Harold followed, closing the door behind them, not noticing that the door had come slightly ajar as soon as he stepped away from it. All were present just as Harold had said. Shawn, Jason, David, Brady's council, General Rex…even Miriam were all seated in the conference room.

"What news do you bring us, Young Black? Was your mission a success?" David inquired as Brady took his seat around the table and Harold took his usual place standing against the wall just beside the doorway.

"No, David, our mission was most definitely not a success. A complete and total failure is more the proper term," Brady stated grimly. All their expressions fell, and the mood became thick and dark. For a moment it felt to all as if hope was lost. But none of them would dwell on it, and the thick, dark air that had engulfed the room parted a bit to give way to some optimism.

"Well, you and your wife to be are alive. That is something to be glad of. So it is not a total loss. We were beginning to worry there for a moment," David stated.

"I am sorry to worry you. It was just… well, neither Chloe nor myself were really up to coming back to the castle just yet. We arrived late last night, or very early this morning, however you wish to look at it. But we were not ready to come back here just yet, and I apologize for worrying you all," Brady stated.

"It's quite all right, Brady. We all understand. What matters is that you are here now," Shawn stated.

"So come on now, you must elaborate, Brady. Tell us what happened on your trip?" Jason inquired.

"There is not much to tell really. There was very little security along the mountain pass, and none of the guards within the city made a single move to stop us," Brady stated.

"That is so odd. Clearly they could tell that you were Neroean," David stated. Brady nodded.

"I thought it was odd at first as well. But I understand now," Brady said. "You see, when we arrived at the Palace… Philip was waiting for us. He knew that we were coming. And he knew exactly why. He knew all about Chloe and the peace treaty and the Alliance… he knew everything."

"What?" boomed one of Brady's council members in total shock. "But how?"

"Spies perhaps?" Miriam chimed in. Brady shook his head.

"No… not in the sense that you mean, Princess Miriam," Brady replied. His eyes traveled around the room until they locked with Lord Banks' eyes. One of the things that had troubled him since leaving Mucche was just how he was going to tell Lord Banks that his daughter, his only child, was a traitor? "Lord Banks, do you think perhaps that we could talk… in private?"

"It's my daughter, isn't it?" It wasn't really a question. A father always knew such things. He could tell by the look in Brady's eyes that Cynthia was somehow involved. "There is no need to speak in private… It doesn't matter anymore. If she has gone to Mucche to hold council with King Philip, then she has crossed the line. I've seen the mark on her… I knew what she was, I just… I didn't want to believe it. I am so sorry that my negligence has caused so much tension. I should have said something, I should have kept her from the Palace. But to expose her as a traitor…" Traitors were punished severely in Nero. It was traitorous acts by the Kiriakis family, after all, that had started this whole beastly war in the first place.

"There is no need for apologies, Lord Banks. It is perfectly understandable. She is your daughter. I would not begrudge you for defending your own child's honor. I hold no blame against you," Brady stated.

"Wait… Lady Cynthia Banks is an informant to King Philip?" Jason asked, quite confused.

"I am afraid so. She was there when Chloe and I got to the Palace. She was there with Philip. I don't know why, and I don't know how she knew… But she had apparently told him everything," Brady replied. "The Alliance, the peace treaty, Chloe's real identity… everything. He knew everything we know, and more."

"But wait, none of this makes sense," Lord Andrew Winters chimed in. "If King Philip knew… if Lady Cynthia told him everything and told him that you would be arriving, why did he not just simply set up a trap for you? If he knew in advance, he could have easily had you both killed. Why didn't he?"

"That is a good question, Andrew. Why indeed?" Lord James Westermen inquired.

"That is a good question. The only thing I can think of is that Philip has something bigger planned. Killing me might not be enough for him anymore. If he could say the things he did today to his own sister… than he is too far gone in his grief or anger or whatever it is that drives him for us to get through to him. And that means he is probably out for total revenge," Brady stated.

Elsewhere, Chloe had retrieved her torn dress and returned it to her old room where all her sewing supplies were still thrown about. She was just about to sit down to start working on fixing her dress when a thought occurred to her.

"I'm not just going to sit here while they discuss what to do about my own brother," Chloe declared aloud to herself. She had a right to know what was going on, didn't she? She did trust Brady, though there was a nagging little voice at the back of her head that told her she now had reason not to. But Chloe had no idea what Brady's council and the Kings of the Alliance might talk him into.

With her mind made up, Chloe set down her dress on the bed, leaving her room and closing the door behind her. She quietly made her way down the hallways of the castle, intent on reaching the conference room. The few people she encountered in the halls all greeted her with smiles and kind words. Chloe just nodded politely and continued on, not wishing to stop and talk with anyone lest she miss something important at the meeting. Chloe had originally intended to go inside and let her presence known. But when she reached the conference room, she saw that the door was left slightly ajar.

"…And that means he is probably out for total revenge." It was Brady speaking. Chloe placed her hand on the door frame, preparing to push the conference room door open and go inside. But before she could make herself known, Chloe pulled her hand away, moving to stand at one side of the door so she would not be seen but could still hear what was being said inside. Yes, eavesdropping would be wrong, but what better way to know what really, truly went on inside that conference room than if no one realized she was there? This way, they could not censor their thoughts merely because she was present.

"I imagine that is so, Brady. But what could Philip gain by sending you away? Surely he must know you will never enter his city again like that. Why would he pass up the perfect opportunity to extract revenge? He has no intention of peace obviously. What else could there possibly be?" David asked.

"I honestly have no idea, David. Unfortunately, there is no way to possibly know what is going on in Philip's mind. And he has banned both Chloe and myself from Mucche under penalty of death, so there is no possibility of talking this situation out peacefully," Brady stated.

"Are you saying military action may be the only solution now?" Jason asked.

"The vast majority of our legions have all been dispatched to their respective homes. There would not have been enough spare resources to sustain the entire force. But each of us gathered a number of our best men and stationed them in the army base and in homes of Nero patrons who agreed to quarter soldiers," Shawn stated. "Just as we agreed."

"At this point," Brady started grimly, "military action might be inevitable. We've tried to take a peaceful route to solving this problem. But it seems Philip has left us with no other choice but to throw out all the peaceful gestures and rally our armies for a full scale attack," Brady stated regrettably.

Chloe's hand shot up to her mouth to suppress her gasp of surprise, and she backed away from the door. No one inside heard her, but Brady did turn to look over his shoulder at the doorway. He had sensed…. Something. But he had no idea exactly what that something was. It did not strike him as completely familiar, however, so he just waved the feeling off, turning his attention back to those in the conference room. Chloe turned on her heels, fleeing the scene as fast as she could. She wanted to hear no more; the man she loved could not possibly be thinking about all out war against her own brother, his future brother-in-law.

"I hate to say it, but I am afraid I agree with what you are saying, Young Brady," David stated, his tone as grim as Brady's.

"If we want this war over with once and for all, we will have to launch a full scale attack on Mucche immediately," Jason stated. Brady shook his head, resting his elbows on the table and massaging his temples for a moment before speaking.

"I can not condone it," Brady stated, placing his hands back flat on the table. "I just can not bring myself to initiate a full scale attack on Mucche."

"Brady…." Shawn started worriedly. He had sensed that Brady's feelings for Chloe were affecting his judgment at the last meeting. He sensed that feeling now as well.

"Please don't start, Shawn," Brady implored. "You all do not know how this affects me, just as I do not know how this affects each of you personally. Philip is going to be my brother-in-law. Do you all understand that? He is going to be a part of my family, even if he does not acknowledge Chloe or myself. Surely you must all realize that makes the situation all the more hard for me," Brady stated.

"Of course we do, Brady," David replied. "But you must also realize that your feelings, or even the feelings of anyone in this room, are not all we must consider. Our roll as officials is to see to the needs of the people. We are given the responsibility to protect those who can not protect themselves. We must put the needs of our citizens before our own needs," David stated.

"I know that, David. Believe me, I know. That makes this all the harder," Brady stated.

"That in mind… when it comes right down to it, we have a very important decision to make, and it is imperative that we make it as quickly as possible," Shawn stated.

"Do we fight, or do we wait for Philip to make his move?" Jason inquired.

"Ahem," Harold cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the entire room. "I do not mean to add to the burden…"

"Please, Harold, whatever you need to say, do let us know," Brady stated.

"There is something else of great importance that needs to be brought to attention," Harold stated.

"Yes Harold, go on," Brady prompted, believing it had something to do with the strange comments Harold had made earlier.

"Well, you see… a problem arose the night before you were to leave for Mucche. A problem which I could not bring to attention because of your impending departure," Harold said. Everyone in the room could sense that Harold had grown quite nervous as if he wished not to speak any further on the matter.

"What kind of problem?" Brady prodded.

"We have taken four Mucchean spies prisoner, Your Majesty," General Rex interjected bluntly. He had not made himself known until now. But he knew Harold would beat around the bush for ages, and they hadn't time for such things. "Two of them were caught fleeing the Palace with documents they had stolen. The other two were taken in for trying to free their partners. We searched their inn rooms and discovered other stolen documents as well as many letters to and from King Philip and his General, Michael."

"Why was I not informed of this?" Brady asked angrily.

"With all there was going on, we did not wish to add more worry to you. We did not wish to put the union in any jeopardy," Harold stated.

"Did it ever occur to you, Harold, that by keeping those men in jail, that was exactly what you were doing? Philip surely knew his informants had gone missing. He would, of course, also assume that I would have something to do with their disappearances. Tell me now, would you accept an offering of peace from the very man you suspected of holding your people captive?" Brady asked, his anger rising. So much could have been accomplished if he had just been informed of the situation!

"Do not blame Councilman Wentworth, Your Majesty. He wished only to free the prisoners at once. It was only at my stern insistence that they were held in prison until your return," Rex stated.

"All the blame can not rest on General Rex. I was the one that insisted you not be informed of the arrests before you left," Harold pointed out.

"Enough. You are both guilty of withholding information from your King," Jason stated. "Let's move on past that fact."

"Yes, let us move on. Was anyone else aware of this?" Brady asked.

"No. Just the General and myself," Harold replied. "Ioannis knew they were wrongdoers of course, but he did not really know what wrongs they had committed. He only did as he was told. He would tell no one about the arrests even if he knew anything to tell," Harold assured.

"What about the men who helped you with the arrests? Surely you did not arrest all four by yourself, General Rex," Shawn inquired.

"They are all simple men. Like Ioannis, they merely followed orders. I can assure you all no one knows of this except we here in this room," Rex assured.

"I am not so certain of what you can assure," Brady said grimly. His anger had faded. He trusted both Rex and Harold to do what they believed was right. But he was still upset at not being informed. "There were four you say? Who are they?"

"Abraham Carver, Roman Evans, and two of his children, Samantha and Eric," Rex answered. "All known to have some connection to Philip in one way or another."

"And the documents confiscated from them?" Brady inquired. Rex pulled a briefcase up off the floor that had been sitting beside his chair, pulling many papers and letters out of it.

"This is everything, important or not, that we confiscated from them," Rex stated. The handful of documents was passed down the table to Brady. Brady scanned over the articles quickly, reading only what first caught his eye.

"This is everything?" Brady asked. Rex nodded.

"All the paper documents, yes. We also found a few items. Upon reading most of the letters, we assumed they were articles of Princess Chloe's. I do not have those things with me, but I will have them returned immediately," Rex stated. Brady nodded, laying the papers down on the table, with every intention of reading them in full detail later when he was alone.

"We will not keep these four individuals in imprisonment a moment longer," Brady stated.

"But, Your Majesty…"

"It is not a subject for debate. They may be spies, and that is grounds for treason charges. But we have no proof that they were bringing information to Philip he did not already know. To punish these men, I would also have to punish Lady Cynthia Banks. And I have no intention of doing that. Not because of who she is, but because even though I saw her with my own eyes, there is no physical proof that she is a traitor. I can not condone punishing these individuals if I do not also issue a punishment for Lady Cynthia as well. So they will be freed right away," Brady stated.

"Everything that is not from the Palace that was taken from them will be returned to them. Any type of transportation they desire will be supplied to them. They will be offered any kind of compensation for their troubles that they desire so long as it is within our power to provide it. Whatever measures it takes to quell these peoples' anger shall be done. I will not have Philip thinking our offering of peace was a complete travesty," Brady finished.

"Does that mean there will be no attack?" Shawn inquired, bringing the conversation back to the previous topic.

"I will not be unreasonable. Before I left for Mucche, I was stubborn and I would not listen to reason. As David stated, I am not the only person who will be affected by this decision. I can not promise I will, morally or emotionally, agree with the decisions you all make. But I can promise I will do my very best to support your decision, whatever that should be. You all have as much to gain, or lose, as I do," Brady sated. "Had you deliberated over what was to be done while I was away?" Brady asked.

"Yes we did, Your Majesty," James Westermen replied. "But unfortunately, we were not able to reach a full agreement. We were almost equally divided on the matter."

"What course of action do you believe we should take, Brady?" Shawn inquired.

"I think we should wait," Brady replied. Shawn looked as if he would protest, but Brady raised his hand to halt whatever it was he might say. "This is not a statement made by a man so deep in love he can not realize he is shirking his responsibilities. It is a logical statement." David nodded; he had lived much longer than most in attendance and he very well knew what Brady was getting at.

"You stated that Philip knew everything upon your arrival in Mucche. That would mean he is also aware of the Alliance," David pointed out.

"Oh I see," Jason started, coming to an understanding as well. "Philip will be expecting us to make a move now. He would be prepared for a strike."

"I suspect so," Brady stated. "I think the best course of action would be to wait this out. I will station some men in the mountain range. They can keep an eye on the Mucchean front. If anything is going to happen, it will happen on either Neroean soil or Mucchean soil now. I truly believe that, for now at least, any plans Philip had to affect Rubino, or any of the other countries for that matter, will be put on hold."

"So I believe it would be best for you all to return to your own countries. But any troops you would lend to the cause, should Philip make the first move, would be vastly appreciated. They would be given all they needed at the militia base. I will make sure there is enough supplies to sustain the larger number of troops. This is all a mere suggestion of course," Brady stated.

The Kings of the Alliance all three shared a look, as if deliberating without words on whether they should agree with Brady's suggested course of action or not. There seemed to be an hour of silence when really they stayed silently for only a minute or two while they came to their decision. After the three kings seemed to reach a silent agreement, David spoke as if he were a delegate for all three.

"I believe we find your terms acceptable," David stated.

"We are all in agreement then?" Brady asked of everyone in the room. Some members of Brady's council hesitated, but all present eventually nodded their heads in agreement. "Good. That is settled then. Well then, is that all that needs to be discussed?" Brady asked.

"I believe so. I am sure I speak for us all when I say that we trust you to attend to the needs of our soldiers," David stated.

"I value that trust, David. I will treat your men as if they were my own. If anything should arise, only the fastest riders of Nero will be sent to send you word of it," Brady assured.

"Well then. We shall rest and prepare for departure in the morning. Our people are surely anxiously awaiting the news we bring," Jason stated.

"I will arrange for your transportation," Brady said.

"That would be wonderful, thank you," David said.

"Well, if you will all excuse me, I've many things I need to attend to," Brady stated, standing. "I will see you all in the morning to see you off on your journey home." David, Shawn, and Jason stood as well, each grasping Brady's arm in a hand shake. Miriam stood with her father, and Brady politely kissed her hand.

"Until tomorrow," David said for all of them. And with that, the Kings of the Alliance and Miriam left the conference room to begin their preparations for their morning departure. Brady turned now to Harold.

"Harold, will you please see to it that three carriages are prepared for their journey by morning?" Brady asked.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Harold replied.

"Thank you, Harold," Brady said. "General Rex, you will please come with me to set those prisoners free."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Rex replied.

"Gentlemen," Brady started, turning to his council. "Thank you all for your attendance here today. I would like to have a public announcement this evening. I would wish for you all to attend."

"I am sure we shall all be there, Your Majesty," Lord Banks stated. Brady nodded.

"Good. Until later, gentlemen," Brady said. He nodded his head to Rex, then walked out of the conference room followed closely by the General, who was followed closely by Harold. Harold turned and walked down a different hallway to begin the preparations for the departure of King Shawn, King Jason, King David and Princess Miriam. Brady and Rex continued out of the Palace, Rex taking two of his men to help with the release, and Brady silently praying that Philip's spies were not so hostile that Philip would only have more fuel to add to the fire…..

It was dark by the time Brady finally managed to make his way to his chambers. He was tired and his head throbbed with pain, and he was glad to finally be free to rest.

Along with the splitting headache, Brady's left cheek had three scarlet red scratches, none very deep, just quite long. Samantha, the most agitated of the group of four, had fancied herself a very pissed off feline apparently, as the moment she was freed from her cell she lunged at Brady, scratching him. Rex had drawn his sword, but Brady halted him from taking any action, and Roman had immediately hauled his overly-violent daughter back away from Brady.

No other violent acts were committed, and Brady let Samantha's actions slide because of the inconvenience caused to all of them. They had all demanded passage back to Mucche and had immediately been granted such. Brady had returned everything that was confiscated from them, minus anything from the Palace of course, and assured them he had not known and he was dreadfully sorry for the grief caused them. They departed just an hour after being set free, none of them taking any other compensation that had been offered to them for their troubles. Brady, unfortunately, had no idea what they would tell Philip when they reported in Mucche.

The public announcement had been just as hectic. Brady had called for the announcement to be held in the town square rather than the Palace, so that the people got the feeling that Brady was a part of them all rather than someone who was just watching from above. Since the Kings of the Alliance were not leaving until morning, they had been called to the announcement.

The people of course had not been pleased. The notion of just waiting for Philip to make his move had frightened them all. "We're sitting ducks!" many had cried in anguish. But Brady's guards had eventually quieted those gathered at the town square, and Brady had assured them all that he would make sure the city was as protected as possible. Whether they believed him, or whether they still supported him as they had before, Brady was not sure.

After that, Brady had stopped to make sure that the preparations for the departure of the Kings of the Alliance were all going smoothly. Everything was going fine in that department, so Brady went straight to his chambers, intent on retiring to a much needed, much deserved, hot bath with the woman he loved and a full night's sleep. That was not, however, what greeted him.

What he did find was a distraught Chloe, sitting in a chair facing the doorway, her arms crossed over her full breasts in a very impatient manner. She looked as if she was waiting for him.

"Chloe, what is wrong?" Brady asked worriedly, quickly stepping inside and closing the door soundly behind him.

"We need to talk," Chloe stated grimly, trying desperately to keep her voice from cracking. She wouldn't let him know just how upset she was. Dread began to form in the pit of Brady's stomach. This did not sound like a good kind of talk.

"Of course," Brady said, coming into the room and walking to his bedside to remove his boots. He sat down on the edge of his side of the bed and began undoing his boot laces. "What about?"

"About this afternoon," Chloe replied. "About the meeting this afternoon."

"What about it?" Brady asked, finishing with the first bootlace and kicking that boot off, placing it at the foot of the bed. "Must we discuss it tonight? I am so very tired. And I told you, you would find the details of the meeting quite boring."

"What I heard tonight, I did not find boring," Chloe stated firmly. She was still facing the doorway. She did not wish to turn to face him.

"What you heard?" Brady demanded questioningly. He threw his second boot over with the other. "You were eavesdropping?"

"I was going to come inside. I knew you wouldn't like it, but I wanted to hear what was being said. But the door was left ajar, so I just listened. It is not my fault your security is so very lacking," Chloe stated coolly.

"I would not have kept you from the conference room if I had known you wanted to attend so badly. I merely thought it best that you not attend so you did not get upset," Brady stated, standing from his bed. He walked over to a chair that was sitting in front of the full length mirror, unbuckling his belt and placing it over the chair. "I was going to put everything into context for you later."

"When?" Chloe demanded.

"I don't know, Chloe," Brady said tiredly, sitting in the chair he'd placed his belt over. He was growing more irritated by the moment. All he wanted was to relax and rest. He didn't feel up to this now. "Some time when my nerves were calmed. Some time when I'm not so exhausted. I am so tired tonight… I just decided it would be best to wait until I was in a proper mindset to discuss the matter with you without arguing."

"How am I to believe that?" Chloe asked. "How am I to know for sure you ever intended to tell me?"

"Wait… just stop," Brady demanded, but not in a harsh way. "We're getting ahead of ourselves. What exactly did you hear?"

"What does it matter?" Chloe asked.

"Well, you must already know something of importance to get you so upset. Much was said tonight. If you know one thing, then you might as well know everything," Brady stated.

"I know that you asked for troops to be left in Nero even before we ever left for Mucche," Chloe stated. "And I know that you are considering military action against my brother."

"For starters, I did not ask for troops. I agreed to it because I am not the only person affected by this war. It was the same when I agreed to take armed guards with us to Mucche. I did it because I have obligations that I must fulfill. You said you understood that," Brady stated.

"Well, maybe I don't anymore," Chloe stated coldly. She stood from her own chair, moving to the more comfortable sofa. She sat down at one end, her arms still crossed protectively over herself and her legs tucked in under herself. She looked rather drawn up into herself, taking up the smallest amount of space on the couch that she possibly could.

"Then that is your problem, not mine. There is nothing I can do about it. I was born to carry this responsibility. I may not like it, but I have no choice," Brady stated. That distance he felt between them at the cabin had returned in full force, perhaps even stronger than before. She was only across the room, but it felt like miles. Miles and miles of cold, dark nothing.

"My obligations as King of Nero require me to look after the needs of my people before my own desires. That is why I had to consider the option of military action. My feelings for you can not affect the decisions I make for my people. But still, you must know how hard this is for me. Philip is going to be my family, too, you know, once we're married. It's not a decision I would take lightly. I only wish you happy. If I had my way, Nero would never again raise a hand against Mucche. But that is just not how it can work. I am sorry for that, but there's nothing I can do," Brady finished dismally. He regretted it. He wished he could make Chloe happy as she deserved. But if it meant abandoning the people that relied on him most, then it could not be.

"You said there was something else?" Chloe asked.

"No action is being taken yet. The troops that were lent to me will remain here, as a means for protection for my people if Philip makes a move. But the main troops have all been dispatched and the Kings of the Alliance will be leaving in the morning," Brady stated. "We will not be taking action against Philip, at least not yet. But I will not leave my people vulnerable and unprotected. We will be prepared because I fear that the chance that Philip will attack us first has just grown much larger."

"Why? What else happened?"

"Four Mucchean citizens were taken captive under charges of treason. They were spies," Brady stated. "They were taken before we left for Mucche, but I was not informed until this afternoon."

"What do you plan to do with them? Execute them as traitors?" Chloe asked coldly, turning her gaze completely away from him. Traitors in Mucche were executed without a true trial. She assumed the same was so for Nero.

"No," Brady replied. "I let them go. That is where I got this," Brady said, pointing to the scratches on his face. "The girl was not too happy about imprisonment."

"But why did you let them go?" Chloe asked questioningly, glancing back at him now. "They were spying for Philip, weren't they?"

"There was no proof that they were bringing Philip any information that Cynthia had not already given him. With that in mind, I saw them as more of a threat if we kept them jailed than if we let them go. I did not wish for Philip to think our message of peace was all just a misleading hoax. I did not wish to anger Philip further," Brady stated. "Plus… I knew you would not approve. I can not think solely of you in these matters, but I was glad to be able to grant you at least one concession." The look of hurt and anger began to fade momentarily from Chloe's face as her resolve faltered. But she shook her head, not allowing the words which he intended to be loving to reach her.

"Brady… that is very sweet. And believe me, I do appreciate the thought very much. But…"

"But what, Chloe?" Brady demanded. He stood from his chair and began to pace in an effort to channel the frustration he was beginning to feel. He was trying his very best. He was not a perfect, flawless man. It was part of being human. Why could no one understand that he did not have all the answers, nor were all his actions always perfect and just? Even though he was in bare feet now, his steps still made quite a noise on the wooden floor because he was slinging his weight down heavily in his anger.

"What do you expect of me? This situation is hard enough to deal with without the added stress of having to worry about hurting your feelings with every step I make. You know I do not want to cause you harm. I would never intentionally hurt you. But I'm not perfect, Chloe. You can not expect me to be," Brady stated.

"I don't expect you to be perfect, Brady. I just want you to be completely honest with me," Chloe insisted.

"I have been!" Brady boomed, pacing more feverantly. "I have been more honest with you in the short time that I have known you than I have been with people I have known my whole life! Sometimes I swear I've been more honest with you then I've ever been honest even with myself. I told you I was going to tell you everything when I was ready!"

"Just like you were going to tell me about the armed guards?" Chloe asked coldly. Brady stopped his pacing, coming towards her with a look of anger that marred his usually handsome, kind face.

"Don't lecture me about honesty, Chloe. You have not always been exactly forth-coming with me either," Brady said through gritted teeth. "You did not tell me all truths when I first met you. I understood why you had to keep certain things to yourself. Why then can't you accept the same of me?" Brady demanded. It felt to Chloe as if a complete change had come over him, and it frightened her beyond words. She knew he wouldn't physically harm her. She had lived with Lord Paul long enough to recognize what kind of person was capable of physically abusing another human being. Brady was not that type of person, but she was frightened none the less. Perhaps not because she feared she would be harmed physically. But this complete change over Brady could hurt her emotionally, and that would sting worse than if he were to actually hit her.

"I do understand, Brady," Chloe said cautiously. "But this is different. You have to understand that. He is my brother, Brady. And your future brother-in-law. And when it comes to my family… you can't expect me not to care. I have a right to know." Brady shook his head, moving away from her again and grabbing his boots.

"You heard him, Chloe. You don't have a brother," Brady said coldly. He regretted it the moment he said it. The moment he saw her face fall and saw the tears spring up in her eyes that she could not fight, his own heart fell. But he could not comfort her now. Not in the state of mind he was in. With his boots in hand, Brady walked to the door and walked out, shutting the door without ever glancing back. It was best if he left for the time being. They could not talk now without saying things they did not truly mean. She heard him, in his bare feet, walking down the hallway, away from her. And she would not fight the tears. Chloe collapsed onto the sofa in a fit of tears, crying harder then she ever had in her entire life. And as he walked away, Brady heard her sobs, and a piece of him, buried deep inside of him, died. But he did not turn back. They could talk in the morning, when they both were calm. Brady just prayed to God, or whoever would listen to his prayers, that that one stupid comment made in the heat of the moment had not lost him the love of his life. If he lost her, he did not know what would possibly become of him…….

It had seemed that it took an eternity for the sun to rise. It was well into the morning hours now, and Brady stood outside the castle where three carriages were waiting to take the Kings of the Alliance away to their respective homes. Shawn, Jason, Miriam and David had still not come outside yet as they were all still making their last minute preparations.

On the outside, Brady looked cheery enough. If you could overlook his red, tired eyes. He had not slept a wink that night. He had gone to his sister's old room in an effort to calm his nerves and get the sleep he knew he needed. He had hoped he would awake in the morning and feel like his old self again. But being in his sister's room had not given him a sense of peace as it usually did. He merely felt like he did not deserve to be in the presence of one so great as Princess Isabella Black. Brady had been changing from the moment Chloe entered his life. And now he had changed so much that he could say such awful things, such hurtful things, to the woman he valued more than his own life.

So Brady had not slept at all. He had merely lain awake, thinking of Chloe, thinking of the many things he had lost and how he could not live with himself if he lost Chloe because of this. And he prayed for morning to come. In the daytime, he could hide. He could put on a fake smile and put on a show for those around him. But at night, the lonely, bleak nights… no, he could not hide then. At night, he had only himself. And it was impossible to hide from oneself.

Morning had finally come, and Brady was glad of it. He had found some older clothes of his to change into after he had a hot bath. He hadn't had the courage to go back to his chambers, lest Chloe still be there, and he figured she would not wish to see him yet. So he had just taken what clothes he could find for now. He had not had any kind of appetite at all, so once he had taken his bath, which had not really proved to make him feel any better as he had hoped, Brady went straight down to see everyone off.

"Brady," Shawn greeted, a little bit overly cheerful for Brady's tastes at the moment. But Brady smiled politely at his old friend, clasping hands with him in greeting.

"Shawn," Brady said. "You always were the first one up, weren't you?"

"Well, you beat me today," Shawn laughed. "Everyone else is almost ready to leave. I just came down because I wanted to talk with you before I left."

"What would you like to talk about?" Brady asked.

"I am going back to Rubino today… but I have decided that it will only be to make an announcement. Then I will be returning here," Shawn stated. Brady shook his head.

"No, Shawn, there is no need for that. As I said to everyone yesterday, it is simply best that you all return to your homes. Rubino, Arcadia, and Supervisore are likely all safe for the time being," Brady stated.

"That may be best for Jason, and that may be best for David and Miriam. But not for me, Brady. You know that. David and Jason are not as we are. You and I have both been affected directly by this matter. Albeit, you have been affected much more than I. But I do play a direct part in this. Philip has already made it clear that we are all targets. And maybe he is going to be too preoccupied with Nero now to do anything about Supervisore and Arcadia now. But Rubino has already been touched by this matter. My country is the closest beside your own to Mucche. Supervisore and Arcadia have us to stand between them. Even if Philip's main concern is now Nero, my country could be put into a dangerous situation. Philip may try to use me to get to you, just as he did before."

"All the more reason for you to return to your home, to look after your people," Brady stated. Shawn shook his head.

"You know better. What good will I be there? I know that you will keep me informed of everything that is going on, but even with the fastest riders, it takes time to get to Rubino. I am better off here, where I know everything that is to know about what is going on. Across the river, I would not know if Mucche was advancing on us until they were on top of us. Here, I would know. And if I was here, I could be of help to you. And do not tell me you do not need help. You have the aid of soldiers… but that is not the kind of support you truly need," Shawn stated.

"I need the support of my friends," Brady said, knowing what he was thinking. And it was so. He considered Jason and the others to be friends. He did care what happened to them as he cared about what happened to his own citizens, or perhaps more so. But Brady had a connection with Shawn. They both loved his dear sister Isabella and they both would have laid down their lives for her. Having Shawn, one of the few true friends he had, there with him for moral support would make the long road ahead much easier. "But Shawn, your people do need you more than I do."

"I think my council is doing a fine job at attending to their needs. Better so than I could. They seem to have much more practice at that than I do," Shawn said, a bit of regret slipping into his tone. "I am going to Rubino to make a public announcement to fill everyone in, and keep everyone calm, and assure everyone that I am not abandoning them as I did before. But then I am going to return. There's nothing you can do to stop it. You know damn well I can be as stubborn as you when I want to be." Brady smiled, as did Shawn.

"That is quite true," Brady stated jokingly. "Well if you do wish to return, you know my Palace is always open to you. You are always welcome here, Shawn."

"Like you could ever get rid of me," Shawn stated almost boastfully.

"Don't believe I would ever wish to," Brady replied.

"There you are, Shawn," Jason said, coming up behind them. "I thought you had gone back to sleep or something," Jason joked.

"You are the one who never would get up in the morning, not me," Shawn replied. The air was light between them, and Brady found it very refreshing. As of late, there had been so much tension in his life. It was so good to have the moments with Shawn and Jason that made him feel as if they were young again, joking with each other and teasing each other about one thing or another. The moments where he felt like his old self again, before becoming kings and experiencing life's tragedies firsthand had turned them all from young boys into grown men. "Where are David and Miriam?"

"Right here, Young Shawn," David said, coming up behind Jason, Miriam on his arm. They were all dressed in fresh, clean clothes now, and all were ready to begin the long journey home. "Are we ready, gentlemen?"

"Everything is ready for you whenever you are ready, Your Majesties," Harold stated as he came up from behind one of the carriages. Beside each carriage stood two footmen and perched on the seat of each carriage was a driver. "The carriage at the very end is yours, King Shawn," Harold stated. Since Shawn would be returning, special preparations had to be made since the carriage could not just turn straight back. Harold had selected three men who knew the route well and that could afford the extra time away from their families. "The middle one is yours, King Jason. And for you, King David and Princess Miriam, I have prepared the first carriage."

"Thank you, Harold," Brady said. "Let us not make this a long goodbye then, shall we? I do not wish for you to be delayed. I am sure it is already later in the morning than you had all intended."

"We will make good time yet I believe," Jason stated. There was no huge rush, although night journeys in Salem were usually less preferred than daytime journeys. The carriages were protected well enough. Each footman and driver was armed. And a caravan of armed soldiers would follow each carriage just as a safety precaution. But still, night travel was not preferred.

"I hope you all have a safe and pleasant journey. It looks to be a lovely day to travel," Brady stated.

"Yes, quite," Miriam said. Brady reached for Jason's arm to clasp in a goodbye handshake. Then he clasped David's arm, and kissed Princess Miriam politely on the hand as he had done last night. Then he clasped Shawn's arm again.

"Do not get too comfortable in your homes. You all will be receiving wedding invitations soon," Brady stated. God how he hoped they would. Shawn smiled, as did everyone else present.

"We look forward to it," Miriam stated. She was sure Brady did not really mean to invite her personally. She would come with her father whether he wanted her to or not, although she was sure neither Brady nor her father would try to deny her from going. But she loved weddings, and did so hope she actually received a personal invitation.

"Have a safe journey," Brady said again. They all nodded, passing Brady now to get into their respective carriages. The two footmen helped Princess Miriam into the first carriage, and then David, refusing assistance, got up into the carriage as well. When they were settled, the footmen took their places and the driver spurned the horses and the carriage began to pull away. One of the caravans full of soldiers that had been waiting on the side of the carriages furthest from the castle pulled out as well and began to follow the Lockhart's carriage as it began the trail that would lead them to the road to Arcadia. They had the longest journey ahead. Then Jason's carriage pulled out and began it's own journey, followed by the second armed caravan. And finally Shawn's carriage began to pull away, followed closely by the last armed caravan. Shawn waved goodbye out the small carriage window as he passed, and Brady smiled and waved back, watching as all three carriages pulled out of sight.

When they were all completely out of sight, Brady turned back towards the castle. He was about to head inside when something caught his attention. In a window that overlooked the front of the Palace stood Chloe, watching him and watching as all the carriages pulled away. He could not see her too clearly, but he knew it was her. The moment he caught sight of her, Chloe quickly backed away from the window and was out of his sight again. Brady sighed heavily, his head hung low as he made his way back inside the Palace. She was still upset, he could tell. Why wouldn't she be? He had only given her a few hours to calm down and be alone. Brady rather feared that he could give her a life time and she still would not forgive him for the hateful things he had said to her. He prayed she would forgive him, but with each step he took, Brady feared more and more that it was never meant to be, that he would live the rest of his life without Chloe. But now for him, if there was no Chloe, there was no life to live. Brady felt as if he would cease to exist if she stopped loving him. And that feeling terrified him more than he had ever been in his entire life. If only he could take back the things he said. But he couldn't. Those words could never be unspoken, and he feared they would haunt him for the rest of his life if he lost the love of the one person he had left to save him from his life of solitude and suffering…….


	13. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Chloe smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress as she checked her appearance in the full length mirror in Brady's chambers. The late afternoon sun poured into the room in soft waves, bathing her in its warming glow. Her dress was pale pink satin, one of the dresses Harold had ordered the Royal Seamstress to sew. Her hair hung loose in soft waves, one strand bradded with a grassy material dyed black and red, a little touch to her appearance that Harold had instead on.

Harold had come by just an hour before, apparently with instructions to see to it Chloe was bathed and dressed before the hour before sunset. So Harold had come with his fruit based soaps and shampoos and bathing herbs, picked out a dress for her and presumed to bathe a highly confused Chloe. It was only after she was washed, dressed, and had her hair done that Harold had given her the note. On a piece of parchment folded in half a message was scrolled in Brady's hand writing that merely read:

_Meet me in the raspberry fields an hour before sunset._

Chloe did not want to meet him. Not really. But Harold's look of disappointment when she had verbally declared that had changed her mind. So she had finished her hair and other preparations, which included finding a necklace and hair pin to match her dress, after had Harold left to attend to his other duties.

Now she stood before the mirror looking rather radiant just minutes before she was to meet Brady. Radiant… except for one details. Because she had such fair, pale skin, she could not hide the redness that still graced her usually stunning eyes and fair white skin.

She had spent her day alone in Brady's chambers, never once leaving and only allowing Harold in once to bring her a late lunch, which she had barely touched. The vast majority of her time since Brady had left the room the night before had been spent trying to control her sobs. She had slept a little, falling asleep out of shear exhaustion on the sofa and then had later woke to crawl into the bed she should have been sharing with Brady. But most of her night and day had been spent crying or lying still and thinking of Brady and the last hateful words he had spoken to her.

She had only finally calmed her sobs a little while before Harold arrived to bathe her. But to Chloe it felt like she had never stopped crying. She felt as if a part of her had died, and all because of a stupid habit she had of not being able to trust anyone no matter how good they had been to her. Since she had heard the slamming of the door, a feeling of utter dread and despair had settled in the pit of her stomach, and Chloe feared there would be no chance of a positive resolution.

Her bath, though it had not proved to help be a "cure all" as Harold had promised, had calmed her nerves a bit at least. She was tired, as what little sleep she had had was not the most restful kind of sleep. But she felt less so now. Though the water could not wash all her sins and troubles away, God how she wished it could, her shoulders felt less burdened with the weight of the world now. She had been tense before. And even though the time when she would have to leave the safety of their room to meet Brady was growing near, she still felt a little more relaxed then when she had first read Brady's note.

With one last look at her reflection and a toss of her long, flowing hair, Chloe sighed heavily, turning on her heels and starting out the doorway. Servants greeted her with smiles and a tip of their hat or a slight bow as she passed them down the hallway and made her way out of the Palace.

The raspberry fields were quite a distance from the Palace. They apparently were best planted away from other crops, so a separate plot of land had to be set aside just for their growth. Despite their distance from the Palace, the fields were usually reserved for Palace use, whether it be for food, wine, trade, special occasions, or to supply the local merchants with when their own supply was too limited for whatever reason. Usually, there would be someone tending to the field, watering, weeding, driving off wildlife, that sort of thing. But this late, there would probably be no one in the fields save the little critters who liked to munch on the bittersweet berries.

The fields themselves were bordered by stone fences with a gate that had to be pulled up to open, an effort to keep the bigger animals that could not burrow underground out of the raspberries, which were a fairly uncommon commodity in Nero if you were not a King with a raspberry fetish. Chloe was fairly tired from the walk by the time she reached the front gate, which was most likely due to the fact she was exhausted before she even set out for the fields.

When Chloe lifted the gate, she was, much to her surprise, showered in pink and white rose petals.

"Whoa!" Chloe cried in surprise as the rose petals fell over her, causing her to drop the light wooden gate handle. Apparently there was a rope attached to the other side of the gate. When she had lifted the gate, the rope had pulled taut, causing the rose petals to be released from what looked like a little sheet which was attached to the rope above the gate entrance just out of sight to someone who was not looking up closely.

Chloe brushed off all the rose petals, having to pick a few out of her long, flowing hair, and lifted the gate again. This time there were no more rose petals to fall, so Chloe was able to step inside the raspberry fields, bringing the gate back down behind her.

There was a clear space that traveled the entire distance of the field on all four sides that separated the berry vines from the stone wall. It was in this clearing that Chloe found a big wooden sign with black letters stuck on a post just in front of one of the paths into the fields. Attached to the sign was a single light purple rose, most likely from the same bush as the first rose which Brady had ever given her. In big, bold, painted on letters, the sign read:

_Follow the right path to your heart's desire…_

Directly behind the sign was one path into the field and two other paths, one on each side of the sign. The middle path was fairly uncultivated, with branches sticking out in the wall all along the path and the ground littered with broken twigs and the like. The left path looked even harder to get through, with branches spilling out high and low and the ground littered with jagged rocks. The path on the right, however, was much different. All loose branches had been cleared from the path for easy walking. This path also wasn't as dark as the other two. Candles, safely placed in clay jars with shapes such as triangles cut out of them so as to allow light to spill from them, but not prove a fire hazard, were spaced out equally along the path. Last, but certainly not least, was the ground itself; the path on the right was covered in pink and white rose petals.

Chloe shook her head, a slight smile gracing her formerly depressed, tired face. Brady had such a vivid imagination, the hopeless romantic. She didn't imagine she would ever meet another quite like Brady Black. Chloe could tell that Brady himself had made the other paths uninviting. There would be branches here and there of course, but the ground would not be littered so profusely with jagged rocks; rocky soil was rarely good for much large plant growth. But for Brady's cute little message to be effective, the paths beside the "right" path would need to be uninviting, although Chloe figured the dramatized loose branches and rocks ceased as soon as the path got out of sight.

Chloe retrieved the exquisite full-stem dethroned purple rose from the sign and, holding the rose close, began to walk down the path on the right. Her feet were cushioned by the soft rose petals, making her footsteps so quiet they could barely be heard. There were still a few branches to get around, and the rose petal paths were not always straight. They were occasionally quite curvy and narrow. Chloe walked and walked, twisting and turning in the narrow paths in the raspberry fields, the sweet, tangy smell of the berries following her with each step until she finally came to the center of the fields.

There she emerged into an immense clearing of wide open grass. The clearing itself was circular and curved into the fields themselves. She imagined the clearing probably served many purposes. Given the size of the fields, Chloe imagined one of its purposes was merely to have a place to rest. She was not doing any work in the fields and already she was exhausted!

Inside the clearing at the far side lay a blanket, covered in the theme pink and white rose petals which had led her there. In the center of that large blanket was a spectacular bouquet of some of the hybrid roses from the royal gardens. No natural colors like red graced the bouquet. Instead, it was filled with roses that were deep blue, purple, yellow, and black in color, all of which were of the rarest variety in all of Salem. In the center of the bouquet, which was placed in a white basket with green leaves woven in patterns just under the brim, was a blue teddy bear with a black rose embroidered over its heart, a little companion to go with her other teddy bear no doubt.

Chloe approached the blanket slowly. Seeing that no one was in the clearing, she bent down, her knees resting on the rose-petal covered blanket. She took one of the rose buds in her hand, cupping her hands around it and bending her head to smell the exquisite blue rose. The sweet scent engulfed her nostrils, and for a brief moment, Chloe was in heaven.

"You're late," Brady stated. He was standing at the entrance of a path to the left of the blanket, a few feet away. He had been watching her the whole time, delighting in the blissful look on Chloe's face as she enjoyed his gifts. He could have stood there merely watching her for an eternity, but he believed it unfair that he could see her while she could not see him. So he had begrudgingly stepped out of the shadows to make himself known.

"Well, I would not have been late had I know I would have to walk across all of Nero simply to get here," Chloe stated. They were not harsh words. Under normal circumstances, her tone would be flirty and joking. But there was a strain between them now, the memory of their passionate, angered words from the evening before all too fresh in their minds and causing a thick barrier between them.

"I am sorry for the great walk," Brady said, stepping forward now to approach the blanket. But he would not approach her until he was certain she did not hate him. "But if this place were easier to get to, more people would come to it."

"I suppose that is true," Chloe stated, a genuine smile now gracing her face. "But then again, who else except raspberry-obsessed royalty would wish to come here?" Brady laughed, shaking his head as he sat on the edge of the blanket farthest from Chloe. He was dressed in the simple yet fashionable clothing he was most comfortable in; black leather pants, a white dress shirt, and a deep brown leather vest.

"I do suppose you have a point. Although I just can not imagine why more people are not obsessed with the wonder that is the raspberry. It simply baffles me," Brady stated. Chloe laughed with him now, finding his boyish attitude very refreshing. He had the sophistication and experience of a grown man, and yet through all his hardship he still had not seemed to lose touch with the part of him that was still an innocent child. And that made him even more wonderful to her. His handsome face had the look that it had before when they first met and began to fall in love… before all their hardships really began to unfold. They laughed together for a moment longer, but soon the laughter faded. The air grew thick again, and Chloe looked down nervously, not quite able to meet his glance. Brady shifted in his seat on the blanket uncomfortably, not sure of what to say. When it came to public speaking and announcements, Brady always knew just what to say and how to react to the masses and their cries and questions, for the most part at least. Brady was an excellent, strong public speaker, full of charisma and grace. But when it came to being open and honest about his own feelings and emotions? That was a whole other matter. For this situation with Chloe, Brady was as lost as one of the simple peasants who did not know how to react to the news of the failed peace treaty.

"I hope you like them," Brady said finally, meaning the flowers. "I remembered you liked the beautiful roses in the garden so much. I thought you would like some to look at whenever you wished. They won't last forever of course, but the wet cloth in the bottom of the basket will keep them alive and beautiful for a while at least.

"They are lovely," Chloe stated, her tone as unsure as Brady's was. "Thank you."

"Chloe, I…."

"No, Brady, please… let's just not do this right now."

"If not now then when Chloe? This is not a matter we can just brush aside. We have to talk about it some time. Why not now?" Brady insisted. Chloe nodded reluctantly, positioning herself more comfortably on the blanket. She sat down facing Brady, her legs tucked under her.

"Yes, we do need to talk I suppose…" Chloe stated. "But not like this. Not with you starting off with a million apologies. You do not need to be apologizing to me," Chloe stated.

"Yes I do," Brady replied firmly. "The things I said…"

"Were hurtful, yes," Chloe finished. "But I said and did some pretty hurtful things last night as well," Chloe stated. Part of her -- the stubborn, pessimistic part of her -- wanted to stay upset with him. But the other part of her -- the trusting, caring side of her she had tried to suppress to keep herself from getting hurt -- told her that she could not possibly remain angry at him. Brady had not meant to hurt her. He would never do such a thing purposely. She could see that now, not because of the romantic gesture and the lovely gifts, but because of the thought put into it. It was the fact that he cared enough to go to the extra trouble to just make her smile that made her fall in love with him all over again. Yes, Brady had said some hurtful things. But she was to fault for that. Brady was doing his very best to keep everyone happy, and all she could do was complain about it. Not even the saintliest of saints could handle that pressure for long.

Of course she did feel as if she could not simply forgive and forget. If Brady could forgive her, she would forgive him. But forgetting was a whole other story. She was happy they were talking now. She'd been hesitant at first, but the sooner they got everything out into the open, the better. But there was something that Chloe believed she would always keep inside. They would get through this, yes. But something told Chloe that it would not quite be the same as before. Perhaps, though, that was a good thing. Such perfection could not possibly exist. They both had their individual flaws, and therefore there would be some flaws in their relationship. What Chloe realized now, however, was that she could not simply abandon the relationship just because of these flaws. She could not let their differences split them apart. Somehow, Chloe would have to find a way to make their differences bring them closer together. But no matter the outcome, she had to accept that her life had never been perfect, and it simply was not ever going to be so.

"No, no… you didn't do anything wrong!" Brady insisted. "You were just concerned about your bother. I of all people should have understood that. When my sister Isabella was alive, there was nothing that I would not do to protect her. I should have understood that. Even though you did not really grow up with him, you would feel the same way about Philip. And you two are twins after all… I am sure that makes that bond, that desire to protect, even more great."

"You are right. I do have a great desire to protect him. Even after…" Chloe paused, shaking her head sadly. "Even after everything, I still strongly feel that. But that does not give me the right to treat people badly just because of my selfish needs… least of all you. You are only one man after all. We all have faults… I should respect that," Chloe stated.

"Are we going to be alright then, Chloe?" Brady asked hopefully. "We… we're going to get through this, aren't we?"

"I can't forget what was said and done last night," Chloe replied honestly. Brady's heart fell, and he turned his gaze away from her. But Chloe just smiled, scooting towards him on the blanket. She placed her hand under his chin, gently forcing him to look her in the eye. "But I do not want to stay upset with you. I love you… You are everything to me. We both said things we regret. We can't change that now. We can not just ignore the past… But lets not let those things come between us. What's done is done. We should simply let the past be," Chloe stated. Brady looked uncertain, searching her face, her soulful eyes, for the truth she could never hide from him. But when he saw the sincerity in her sparkling sapphire eyes, Brady's lips broke out into a huge smile. He could see she meant the words she spoke. Nothing would be forgotten, and yet all was well again. Different somehow, but still they were alright.

"I could not agree more," Brady stated. He pulled her to him in a passionate embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist. Chloe pressed herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around him as well.

"I love you, Brady."

"And I love you, Chloe," Brady returned. They stayed there in that embrace, arms wrapped tightly around each other for quite some time. Neither of them had a care in the world about how much time actually passed. All they cared about was that they were together… and they were forgiven.

Before too long, however, the couple did have to split apart. It was growing darker by the minute. Though there had been candles lighting the path to the clearing, Brady had not had enough time to light the candles he had placed in the clearing itself before he had heard Chloe approach and had to duck from sight.

"I have to light the candles," Brady stated eventually. But their arms were still wrapped protectively around the other, neither of them moving to allow him to stand up.

"I know," Chloe said, running her fingers idly through his gorgeous hair.

"There will be very little moon lighting tonight. I really should light those candles," Brady repeated, still making no move to unravel himself from her embrace.

"We're becoming one of those lovey dovey couples that can not possibly bear not to be touching, aren't we?" Chloe asked playfully. Brady laughed, nodding his head.

"Yes, I do believe we are," Brady replied. "But then what is really wrong with being co-dependent?"

"Nothing is wrong with that at all," Chloe replied. It was she who finally pulled away, forcing herself to move back to her previous seat out of touching distance from him. "But I don't fancy having bruises all over my body because I couldn't see where I was going. I don't look so good in bruises."

"In that case, I'll light the candles right away. I am the one who must look at you after all," Brady teased. Chloe swatted at his arm playfully as he stood, smiling brightly at him. Brady smiled back, before moving away to light the candles around the clearing. When he sat back down on the blanket beside her, darkness had fallen. But the clearing was sufficiently illuminated by the many lit candles. It wasn't as bright as the day time, but the dim lighting casting shadows in the clearing set a much more romantic mood. "There. Now you won't be able to blame me if you get bruises on your body," Brady stated.

"And you best keep it that way, Brady Black. I won't be taking any impertinence from you. I may be smaller, but I could so take you any day of the week," Chloe stated. Brady laughed, pulling her into his arms so that her back was against his chest, his arms wrapped around her.

"Oh, "take me," please. I could use a good beating now and then," Brady said teasingly, an impish smirk on his face.

"Brady!" Chloe squealed as he tickled her lightly. She swatted his arm again, making him stop his tickling pursuit. "You are such a sex-driven maniac," Chloe joked.

"Hey, I blame you. I was a virgin before I met you. It's not my fault you are just so damn good," Brady replied. Kissing her neck lightly, he spoke softer and more seriously. "So beautiful," Brady continued, kissing her neck again. "So sexy," Brady added, kissing her again with even more passion. Chloe melted into his embrace, craning her neck to allow him greater access to her sensitive flesh, and placing her hand behind his neck to deepen his kisses.

"I never forced anything on you. Not my fault if you get addicted," Chloe stated.

"Never said I was complaining," Brady pointed out, turning her around in his arms so that she was facing him. He gently began to lay her down on the rose-petal covered blanket, his hands never leaving her skin.

"And just what do you think you're going to do now?" Chloe asked, looking up at him as he towered over her.

"Why, begin phase two of my plan to make up for last night of course," Brady stated coyly, lowering himself down above her. He kept his right arm bent slightly to support the weight of his body above her. Brady bent his head down to kiss her lips, before he began to move his kisses down her jaw line and back to the flesh of her luscious neck.

"Brady," Chloe giggled, the sensations of his kisses tickling her sensitive skin. "You promised," Chloe pointed out, gesturing with her free hand towards the raspberry fields. Brady lifted his head from his attack on her neck, propping himself up above her with both arms now, one leg resting on the blanket between her slightly parted legs and the other resting aside her left leg.

"Excuse me. If I recall correctly," Brady began, "you only made me promise I would not make love to you on a raspberry covered bed. Do you see a bed anywhere around here?" Brady asked slyly, an impish half grin on his handsome face. "What I see is a rose-petal covered blanket in the middle of a field of raspberries. You didn't say anything about that."

"I guess I didn't," Chloe laughed.

"Next time you are going to have to learn to be more specific," Brady stated. "But it's too late this time, so you will just have to suffer the consequences."

"I think I can manage," Chloe stated. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down fully on top of her with a devious smile on her face. Brady pressed his lips to hers, molding their bodies together as one. They made love there in the raspberry fields until long after the moon had risen high in the sky. And they fell asleep together, wrapped in the safety of each others embrace, each thankful for this time together and each praying that their agreement of forgiveness would stand true. Total hell was approaching them. Together they could survive. But apart? Apart, they would suffocate under the weight of the hardship that was to come…..

All around her was darkness. No light, no sound, no stirring of moment what so ever… Stretching for what seemed an eternity, there was nothing but darkness. She saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing as she seemed to fall forward in the dark abyss. Falling forever in the great darkness, and yet she felt no fear. For the darkness was nothing compared to what lay ahead. Here was nothingness. No truth or happiness to be found. But at least there was no pain.

And then suddenly the calm darkness came to a screeching halt. Her decent into the darkness ended and she fell, stunned, face first on the cold smooth stone floor. Pain shot through her, a shocking change from the unfeeling yet blissful shadows. The floor was cold as ice, causing goose bumps to cover her sensitive flesh. Her gasp of surprise echoed inhumanly about the small room, pulling her into a state of consciousness she would have preferred to avoid.

When the echo played out and the pain subsided, she slowly stood upright. She turned her head slowly to survey her surroundings. She was now in a presumably small, empty room, very dimly lit. But she could see only three gray stone walls. Where the fourth wall should have been, there was the only true darkness to be found in this new room. The rest of the room was completely empty, its bleak gray walls and shades far more uninviting to her. Wishing to get back to that blissful state of indifference, she began to walk towards the darkness in front of her.

She walked for what seemed an eternity, her hand stretched out in front of her, palm out, trying to get back into the veil of darkness. But with each step, the darkness receded. She could not return to the indifferent shadows which she so longed to be in. As she went along, the walls began to get closer and closer. The floor began to slope up while the ceiling slopped down and the two walls seemed to be coming towards each other further down the tunnel. She paid no heed to the confinement, and refused to notice that as she walked she spread the gray bleakness to the room which was previously unspoiled.

The tunnels soon got so tightly closed that she had to crawl on all fours, but still she pressed on. At the end of the tunnel off far in the distance, she could see light. Just a small pinhole of light at first, but as she crawled forward, the circle of light grew bigger. Perhaps if she could no longer be a part of the blissfully unfeeling shadows, then maybe the light could warm her enough to keep the pain and hurt away.

She crawled onward, the walls still getting closer and tighter around her until the point she had to actually crawl on her belly. Yet still she pressed on, the light getting bigger and bigger, though it was still not bigger than a brass bartering coin. She slithered and shimmed down the rest of the tunnel, almost like a snake hunting its prey. Just as she reached the point where the ceiling began to press on her back, just when she believed she could go no further, she reached the tunnel's end.

At the end of the tunnel was a black stone wall that was just wider than her shoulders and just a little taller then it was wide. In the middle of the stone wall, a small rectangle was craved out, causing a small opening between the tunnel where she was now and whatever lay on the other side. Over this opening was a thin sheet of clear glass, making a rectangular window to the other side. This glass was how the light, though it was very dim, was getting into the tunnel. The rectangular window was just large enough so that when she put her face against the wall, she could see through to the other side with both eyes.

When she looked through the glass, she saw before her what looked to be a bedroom. It was plainly furnished, almost bleak. And yet it was not a peasants bedroom. Though simple, it was almost majestic in construction. Someone important vacated this room. The room was only partially illuminated by one solitary candle that was burning on the beside table. There were windows, but they supplied no light, signifying it was nighttime.

As she looked closer, she began to see the outline of a person lying in the bed. Their back was turned to her under the covers at first. But before long, they turned uneasily toward her . Restless, as if something was plaguing them and keeping them from sleeping peacefully. She could now see his face. Though it was dimly illuminated, she could tell it was the face of a young man, no older than she herself. For some reason, she felt as if she should know him. And yet his face sparked no memory within her mind.

She watched him turn restlessly in his sleep. Yes, he was indeed asleep, though he often murmured or cried out as if to say he wanted to wake and escape whatever nightmare he was having. A door then opened in a part of the room she had not previously been able to see. This bathed the room in light… perhaps there was a lighted hallway behind the door that could now provide light into the darkened room.

Now that there was light, she could see something that greatly troubled her. Above the young man's bed hovered a huge black and purple cloud. It swirled angrily just above him, and appeared to be slowly spreading with each passing moment. This was not the kind of darkness she had been desperately trying to return to. This… this was an evil, destructive darkness. This cloud was filled with hatred and anger and pain… everything that was wicked in the world, this cloud possessed. The cloud grew slowly, a swirling mass of dark evil spreading out along the room's ceiling as well as growing wider in the middle, as if it were trying to grow big enough to reach the sleeping man below.

From the doorway, a tall figure emerged, casting a dark shadow on the newly lit room that sent chills up her spine. His face was concealed by shadow so she could only tell that he was a male, and he appeared young in age. Older then the sleeping man, yet still he held himself more like a younger man than a grown, older adult. But she could sense something familiar about him, though that feeling of familiarity was clouded by fear. This man was not meant to be here.

With catlike movements, the Dark Man -- as she would remember him as, as he seemed to have a dark aura about him -- crept into the room. He was holding something in his right hand, and it was clear by his soundless, easy movements he intended for the unaware sleeping man not to wake. His feet made not a sound on the wooden floor as he approached the bed. And yet, despite that, the sound of his approach seemed to echo painfully in her head, as if she was hearing and seeing things that the two men below could not possibly conceive.

As the Dark Man entered the room, the evil cloud hovering over the scene began to grow more rapidly, expanding at the sides and down, getting closer and closer to the sleeping man. It seemed as if it were feeding off the vibrations radiating off the Dark Man. This man was so filled with rage. But she took little note of that. She felt something now about that cloud, and what it really meant. Its presence meant that there was something about the scene unfolding before her that she was not meant to understand or that would not be revealed to her. That cloud signified the reason the events below had to take place. And that reason was something she was not meant to be a part of.

As the Dark Man approached the sleeping man, the light from the candle glinted off the object that was in the Dark Man's hand, allowing her to see what it was. In his right hand was a sword that glinted with a fury matched only by its wielder.

When he reached the bed, the Dark Man stared down at the man below him for a moment. He was on the left side of the bed, whereas she was watching from the right. Now she could see the man's face. She could see it clearly, but just as before, she could not place the somehow familiar face. No matter how crazy it sounded, it felt like… it felt like she had known them both once long ago, very well. But now… now they were strangers to her.

The Dark Man looked down at the sleeping figure for a moment, a look of pure disgust on his handsome face. And then he lifted the sword high above his head, positioning it over the sleeping man's heart. As he did so, the evil cloud jolted forward the remaining distance, seemingly being pulled into the sword itself. The entire cloud disappeared into the sword's hilt, and formed a black snake coiled around the blade. It was not a live snake… no, this evil darkness was a part of the blade itself, symbolizing it's purpose was now one of pure evil intent.

The Dark Man lifted the sword as high as it would go and, with a cry of anguish that sent chills down her spine, plunged the sword downward. She tried to scream, tried to dissuade him from committing such a devious act, tried to perhaps warn the man sleeping unawares in the bed. But her cries had no voice. She tried to pound her palm against the glass. But all to no avail. If she had even made a sound at all, which she did not believe she had, it would not reach the Dark Man. With inhuman force, the blade descended downward with its wielders cry persuading it onward. The evil blade plummeted down for what seemed like ages before it finally made contact. With a sickening crunch, the blade sank into the young man's chest. His eyes flew open in panic, wild with the intense, burning pain.

The young man's hands flew up involuntarily to the hilt of the sword. He looked up at his killer in disbelief as his life's blood spilled out over his paling body. His murderer watched this, not one ounce of remorse on his face. And with the young man's dying breath, his killer spat on him. And then he was gone. His body became still, his arm falling to the side, leaving it to hang lifelessly over the edge of the bed. The only sound that was heard was the almost deafening sound of his icy cold blood hitting the floor in slow, steady drops from where it dripped down his lifeless arm.

His cold dead eyes stared up at his killer, unseeing. And the Dark Man merely stared down at the lifeless corpse in disgust, as if he was not satisfied with the act he had committed. It appeared to her, as she watched on silently in despair, that she could not prevent this tragedy. She believed that this man whom she presumed to be a dark, hateful creature was not satisfied with the other man's death. It was as if killing him once was not enough; perhaps he wanted him to experience the pain of death a 1000 times over, as he himself seemed to be damned to by the simple act of breathing.

The Dark Man surveyed the scene for a moment longer. Then when he appeared to be satisfied, as satisfied as he could be at least, he turned to walk away. But before he had even fully turned, a shadow blanketed the room. One shadowy figure, a man bathed in unnatural red light, stepped into the room. This Red Man was followed by three more men, each bathed in a gray-shale light, signifying that perhaps they were insignificant in comparison to the first man. The three new men were armed, but nothing else about them stood out. Their presence meant something, but the real focus was on the Dark Man and the Red Man, who seemed to know each other.

"You!" the Red Man cried when he saw the Dark Man standing over the lifeless figure in the bed. "I'll have your head for this," he growled.

With that decree, the three armed, Gray Men lunged on the Dark Man, the Red Man standing still in the doorway as if he wished to watch before he himself took action. The Dark Man did not make a single move to stop them. He submitted to their fury but in a dignified manner, almost as if he believed his work to be done. It was as if he had nothing left to live for. The first Gray Man lunged at the Dark Man, slicing his blade across his chest. The Dark Man made no struggle, nor did he utter a single sound. He would give these men nothing… no pleasure in smiting him down, no satisfaction, no glory… nothing. He stood tall as the second of the Gray Men came forth, slamming the hilt of his sword into the Dark Man's vulnerable head. The Dark Man, bleeding and injured, began to waver as the third and final Gray Man grabbed him by the hair, jerked his head down, and kneed him swiftly in the face.

Blood poured down the Dark Man's face as he steadied himself using the aid of a bedside table. He straightened himself upright to stand tall in front of the last figure, the Red Man who had spoken to him who was somehow different from the others. The Dark Man stood tall and stared at the Red Man with as much disgust and disdain as he had for the man he had slain.

This last man stood tall as well, sword in hand, locking eyes with the Dark Man. They each held the others gaze, a certain hatred passing between them that lit the air ablaze with rage. The Red Man had a smirk upon his face, as if he found such pleasure in seeing the man before him bleeding and broken. The Dark Man's eyes held no emotion. Not pain, not remorse, and most certainly not fear. They were merely empty. But they had not always like that, that she could feel now that her fear of the Dark Man had subsided. This was what brought the Red Man the most pleasure. Perhaps he had seen the Dark Man's eyes before they became hollow, and found it a more fitting punishment than anything else he could do to him. The Red Man seemed to watch long enough to commit every detail to memory. And when that task was done, he too advanced on the murderer and slowly, still wishing to bask in every moment, raised his sword. With swift accuracy, he drove his blade into the Dark Man's stomach. The Dark Man, though trying not to allow his pain to show, did gasp as the intense pain racked his once strong body. His gasp of pain caused a gasp to escape her own lips as well, though it was silent and went unheard by those below. And, had she been able to move her arms, she would have clutched her chest as pain racked through her own body. She felt as if the blade had sliced not only into the Dark Man below her, but had pierced her own heart as well. But her cry of pain was unnoticed by the men below. They could not hear her.

With unearthly force, the Red Man used his foot to push against the Dark Man. The sword, with its malicious blade that had run the Dark Man completely through, was pulled out as the Dark Man was pushed back, doing as much damage coming out as going in. The Dark Man slammed hard against the wall, his arm knocking over the night stand he'd used to steady himself and knocking its contents to the floor. The Dark Man, with a strength that no man in his position could possibly be able to posses, staggered to right himself. Even dying, he was too proud, too unwilling to allow these men who he believed to be vile and despicable to take pleasure in his pain. He righted himself once more, just long enough to grasp something which hung around his neck on a silver chain. Just as he grasped the item, the Red Man slammed his fist into the Dark Man's face, catching him square on the chin.

The Dark Man fell now, never to right himself again. He fell over the corpse of the man he had slain, stretching across the bed just below where he had driven the evil sword into his enemy's chest. The fall had caused him to rip the chain from around his neck. Now, with his arm bent unnaturally over the dead corpse of his enemy, the object which he had grasped with his final breath of life fell from his clenched hand.

The object glinted as it fell, landing with a sickening and unearthly sound in the pool of the Sleeping Man's blood that had formed on the floor. She could clearly see it just before the blood of the dead consumed it. The object which the Dark Man had grasped was a ring… a beautiful, golden wedding ring. And now, though she wished the faces had stayed hidden in the shadows, the truth simply not revealed, she could see the faces of the two slain men who lay sprawled over the bed. She knew exactly who they were….

The room began to fade then, and a new scene was placed before her. No longer was she in a tiny tunnel looking through a window. Now she was outside, standing in the rain… standing over two fresh graves. Between the two graves were two swords, plunged deep into the ground as if they marked the boundary between the two graves.

The tombstone on the left read:

_Here lies Philip Kiriakis, son of Victor and Katherine Kiriakis and King of Mucche who was dishonorably slain by his greatest enemy, his father's murderer while asleep in his own Palace._

The tombstone on the right read:

_Here lies Brady Black, son of John and Isabella Black and beloved King of Nero who was unlawfully smite down after taking his rightful vengeance against Nero's enemy, King Philip of Mucche._

She fell to her knees in tears now, placing one hand over each grave as she cried out in anguish.

"You brought death to them both, Chloe," a voice suddenly boomed. "Their blood… is on your hands." As the voice declared this, blood began to pour from each grave, bathing her hands in it. She pulled her hands back quickly and bolted upright as the blood continued to pour out of the graves. And the last thing she heard as the blood washed over the land and she surveyed her blood stained hands was her own screaming, carrying out over the land of Nero and the land of Mucche… and shattering every last thing in sight…….

"Nooooo!" Chloe screamed as she bolted up. Her eyes immediately darted down to her hands and she saw the blood. She continued to scream, trying to wipe the blood off her hands. "No! No! The blood! Oh God, the blood!" Chloe screamed. Strong arms were soon around her, and two strong hands had grabbed her own to stop her frantic flailing, which inevitably only caused her panic to rise.

"Chloe, stop it! What is it, what's wrong!" It was Brady. He had woke up when he heard her scream. His arms were wrapped tightly around her as he feared she would hurt herself in her panic. Chloe jerked her hands free, desperate to cleanse them of what she believed to be the blood of those she loved most dearly.

"The blood! I have to wash away the blood!" Chloe exclaimed. Brady took hold of her hands again, this time forcing her to look at him.

"Chloe, calm down," Brady said as calmly as possible. He held her hands with one hand, using the other to gently caress her check in an effort to calm her. "Just calm down. It was only a nightmare," Brady soothed.

"No… no, it wasn't. It was real. All the blood… God, the blood. It's still on my hands… it's all over me!" Chloe stated.

"No, Chloe. There is no blood. Not even a drop. Just some raspberry juice. We did spend the night in a raspberry field, remember," Brady stated. He raised her hands up for her to see, and sure enough, there was no blood. What she had seen as blood was merely a few places where raspberry juice had stained her skin. His hands had a few spots like that as well. She had been in a playful mood last night and had thrown a handful of raspberries at him. An extremely fun, completely naked food fight had ensued after that. They had been covered head to toe in raspberry juice by the playful fight's end. There was a water basin in the clearing that they had used to wash each other, but they would need a real bath with soap to get all the stains off. "It was just a dream, Chloe. Just a nightmare. There is no blood."

"Oh, God, Brady… it was so real," Chloe cried, collapsing in his arms. She could remember now where they were. They had fallen asleep together in the raspberry fields, their clothes tossed carelessly about with only the blanket covering them. The ground of the clearing was fairly soft and rock free, so they had not needed the blanket as padding against the earth. There were still a few hours left before sunrise and most of the candles had burnt out. But there was still enough light for her to have seen the raspberry stains.

"Shhh… it's alright now, Chloe. None of it was real," Brady soothed gently, wrapping his arms around her. "Come on now, why don't you lay back down…"

"No! If I fall asleep, I'll see all that again! Please. Please Brady, I don't want to see that again," Chloe declared.

"You don't have to sleep, Chloe. Just lay down, rest your eyes, and keep calming thoughts in your mind. I won't let you fall asleep if you don't wish to. I promise," Brady promised. "Will you lay back down with me now?"

"Yes… if you will hold me, yes I will," Chloe answered. Brady nodded and he settled himself back down on the ground, opening his arms to her. Chloe laid down, cradling herself against him and resting her head on his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his chest as Brady pulled the blanket back up over them both. He pulled his other arm up around her, pulling her closer to him.

"Rest now, love. I will protect you," Brady promised softly. Chloe closed her eyes, sighing heavily. She was beginning to believe that no one could ever protect her. And that dream was just so incredibly real… so unnervingly, disturbingly real that Chloe was beginning to believe that Brady was the one who needed protection… protection from her…….

Chloe slumped down into a chair in the Great Hall, thankful to finally be off her feet. The Great Hall had been closed off so as to have a place to make preparations for the wedding. Brady was adamant about having the wedding as soon as possible. A week had passed since her nightmare in the raspberry fields, and there had been no movement at all on the Mucchean front. Brady feared the calm would not last and he wished for them to be married before all hell broke loose.

A week had passed, and Chloe had barely slept a wink. Each night, her sleep was plagued by awful visions. The two nightmares which she had seen kept repeating, the first dream repeating one night and the second the next night. Each night the dreams became more vivid then the night before. Chloe now cursed the setting of the sun and prayed only for sunrise. By morning, it would be as if she had not slept at all. If she slept, the dreams would come, and there would be no waking from them no matter how hard she tried to pull herself from those horrid images.

And so, Chloe was always exhausted. But on this day, her exhaustion was even worse. Brady had handled everything before now. But he had insisted that she meet with the seamstress today to be fitted for a wedding gown. She hadn't the strength to argue, so she had spent the last two hours straight doing nothing but standing still while the extremely picky seamstress made measurements and fussed over picking out just the right material for the dress. She had insisted on finding the perfect material to "match those stunning pools for eyes," or so the seamstress had said. All Neroean wedding gowns, for the royal family at least, were made in the same style. The only difference was the size and colors. It was another sign of tradition that let everyone know Nero still held tight to it's roots, or so Brady had told her.

Chloe could finally rest now. She sat in a chair in the middle of the Great Hall, watching the mayhem around her as everyone darted around trying to finish their assigned choir. Usually, wedding ceremonies were held wherever the couple should desire. Commoner weddings were usually small and private inside a home of a loved one, while royal weddings could be anywhere from small, intimate ceremonies inside the Palace to huge, city-wide outside celebrations and festivals, depending on the couple's taste. But Brady was concerned an outside ceremony would leave them unprotected, not only against the elements, but against Philip as well. He did not approve of their merger after all, so it was possible he would try to do something extreme to keep the wedding from happening. So Chloe had agreed to the wedding being held in the Great Hall. There they could have a perfectly grand wedding, indoors with no worries of rain or high winds ruining the ceremony, and with the added protection of all of Brady's guards. There was no actual date set yet for the wedding. There was only Brady's vow that it would be as soon as possible.

There had been no word thus far on the Mucchean front in the past week. But there was much activity in Nero. The people were growing restless, calling for Brady to take action against Mucche before Mucche decided to strike on them. Riots were breaking out in more abundance, although the town militia was able to keep them under control, for the time being at least. Brady seemed to pay no heed to these riots. Chloe often caught sight of him waving off his concerned councilmen, telling them he was far too busy and to handle the situation themselves if it troubled them so. "I picked you all for a reason. I trust your judgment. So go out there, and use it" Brady would say.

Brady was just too caught up with the wedding preparations to notice anything else. Most, especially those inside the castle, did understand at first. He was experiencing his first true love. Any man about to be wed for the first time to his first and truest love had a right to be excited about it. But it did not take too long for that understanding to begin to fade. A few councilmen still supported Brady in all his decisions, but the common citizens were a different matter.

Brady was so excited about the upcoming wedding and yet all the while, Chloe was beginning to pull away from it all. She went where Brady asked her to go without a fuss, and she put in her own thoughts and ideas when he asked her about every aspect of the service, such as guest lists and food and music. But her heart was not really in it. Perhaps it was just because she was so tired. But Chloe feared it was not going to be so simple.

"Brady," Chloe called as she spotted him across the room. He was speaking with the seamstress, probably confirming when the dress would be ready. Brady waved the seamstress away, apparently done with whatever it was he was telling the frizzy haired young woman, and approached Chloe as she stood from her chair. He grinned at her widely, opening his arms to her to hug her close. She could tell he was ever so happy. Perhaps he was happy enough for the both of them.

That was another reason no one approached Brady to make him address the current issues in Nero. Brady had experienced so much hardship in his few short years that he had previously closed himself off emotionally. Anyone else might not have ever been able to recover emotionally from all the strains put on them. Brady had always been a good King, but the people knew he was very depressed at times. They feared for him when those detached, depressed moods began to happen more frequently and when they began to last longer. They had all seen the consequences of what happened in Rubino when King Shawn began to do the exact same thing. Chloe had done away with that wall Brady had built around himself and no one wanted for that wall to be rebuilt. It could mean danger for them all.

"Chloe, my love," Brady greeted happily, kissing her forehead. He stood back from her a bit, holding her still at arms length. His smile faltered and was replaced by a look of concern. "You do not look well, Chloe. Is something the matter?" Chloe had not told Brady about her recurring nightmares. The morning after her nightmare in the raspberry fields, Brady had asked about it. But he had not asked for details, and she had not supplied them. What could he do about them anyway, besides worry needlessly. He slept with his arms around her each night, and yet the dreams came. There was no reason to trouble him. He spent too much time on her already.

"I am fine, Brady, really. Just tired is all," Chloe answered. "Being fitted for a dress is not easy work. I was hoping, if you do not need me, that you would not mind if I went to lay down for awhile?"

"Of course I do not mind," Brady replied. "You go and get all the rest you need. Would you like food to be brought up to you? The chef makes a wonderful soup that will sooth you. Or I could send for someone to draw you a bath."

"No no, that's quite unnecessary. I just want to lie down is all. Thank you though, Brady. You are always so good to me," Chloe stated, though only half-heartedly. Perhaps, Chloe thought, he was too good to her for his own, or rather, his country's own good.

"Nothing is too good for you, love," Brady replied, a half smile on his lips again. He kissed her forehead once more before he released her. "Do not hesitate to call if you need anything. Rest up. I will wish to talk to you about setting the date when you are feeling better."

"All right," Chloe said, having nothing else to say about the wedding. She wanted to avoid all the talk and preparations for the time being and just rest. Maybe she could get some rest without falling asleep. Because if she slept, she knew the nightmares would haunt her again. And, though she fought the idea with every breathe she took, the more and more she saw those horrid images, the more she feared they were visions, warnings of oncoming doom rather than just simple dreams.

Chloe turned now, beginning to make her way up the Grand Staircase to her and Brady's chambers. She had had dreams before that seemed like only dreams until they came true. Usually, the actual event was not exactly like the dream . Her dreams were symbolic more than anything literal. But on occasion, some small event would come to pass exactly as it had in a dream of hers.

One day when she was younger, only perhaps five years old and still living in the Mucchean Palace, Philip had fallen from a tree while they were playing unattended in the court yard. He had broken his arm, and the woman who served as their nanny had been imprisoned for negligence. A life sentence, in fact, just as had happened in a dream Chloe had had the night before. In that dream, Chloe did not see Philip fall. She did not know he even had anything to do with the vision. But the dream had stood out, because she had seen the poor woman in the court yard during what looked to be a trial. Trials were customarily held in the court square or within the Palace itself, which was one of the things that stood out. The other was that when Chloe heard the sentence in her dream, life imprisonment, she felt a sharp pain in her own arm as she slept. Normally, the woman would have been put to death under the cruel system of Mucchean law. But Philip had convinced Chloe to make up some story, though she didn't know exactly what that story was now, to keep the poor girl alive.

Another night, the night before the kidnaping in fact, Chloe had been stricken with horrible nightmares. She had seen her mother weeping over a scrap of cloth in the court yard. And she had seen a slavers cart in a land she did not recognize. Standing beside that card had been two strange children. She had not known it then, but all those things had signified the kidnaping in one way or another. Philip had torn his shirt on a branch while being carried through the trees surrounding the castle. They had both been put in a slavers cart, and the children she had seen were no doubt Young Brady and Isabella. Chloe had not remembered these things until recently. The memories seemed to return to her after her second terrible nightmare in the raspberry fields, buried somehow deep inside her mind. But now she remembered these things clear as day, as though it were important for her to realize that she had had this happen to her before.

Chloe had not paid any heed to these dreams as prophesies before. She did not believe in such things. To believe that she was perhaps clairvoyant was completely unheard of! And yet, each dream, no matter how big or small, had indeed come to pass, causing some hardship for herself or those around her. She couldn't ignore these dreams this time. Whether they were meant to be figurative or literal prophesies she did not know. Nor did she care. They obviously could not be literal. Brady would never take a life in cold blood as he had in her vision. That she was not afraid of. But what did scare her was that she did believe she could be responsible for both the deaths of her husband to be and her twin brother Philip. What really saddened and frightened her, perhaps most of all, was that she believed these dreams, whatever they meant, must have something to do with her impending marriage to Brady. And, judging by the violent nature of the dreams, she could only imagine that that something was not positive…

Back in the Great Hall, Brady was looking over the sample invitations which a local artisan had prepared. Simple hand written declarations on parchment scrolls would not do for an event of this nature. No, each invitation would be like a piece of artwork in its own right.

"Your Majesty, a word please?" Harold asked as he approached Brady.

"Just one moment, Harold," Brady replied. "I like this one, but I will want to discuss it with Chloe first. Leave them here with me, and I will call on you once we have reached a decision."

"Of course, Your Majesty," the artisan replied. He placed all of the samples back in his "portfolio" as they were referred to as, and handed it to Brady. "I will anxiously await your summons. You have no idea what an honor it is for you, your Esteemed Grace, to choose my services," the man said, bowing.

"You do good work, Jonathan. It is no surprise that you would be picked for such a task. Might I say that it is an honor that you would use your talents on my behalf," Brady stated. "I am sure you can show yourself out. Wouldn't want to stay in this mad house long. I will call upon you as soon as we are ready." The gracious artisan again bowed, before taking his leave, disappearing into the crowd of people hustling about the Great Hall. Brady turned to Harold, motioning for him to follow as he began to walk towards the Grand Staircase. They ascended the stairs and went inside one of the empty rooms in the hall above the Great Hall so they could have privacy to talk.

"Forgive the wait, Harold. I have been so busy as of late. What did you wish to talk to me about?" Brady asked.

"That is what I wanted to discuss, Your Majesty," Harold replied. "You have been very busy this last week."

"Well, I am preparing for a wedding, Harold. That does not happen over night," Brady stated.

"I do understand that, Your Majesty," Harold replied. "But do you not think that perhaps you are rushing in to this wedding?"

"You do not think the wedding should happen, Harold? Or do you think that our marriage will simply not last?" Brady inquired.

"You know that is not what I meant," Harold chided, dropping his professional manner as his patience was beginning to wane. "You must know I want this wedding to happen. I mean, I've only been pushing for you to take a wife since you were crowned King of Nero. Hell, I think that I want this wedding for you even more than you want it. But the timing…"

"Is terrible. I realize that," Brady finished. "Harold, the sooner this wedding happens, the sooner I can stop worrying about Philip trying to stop it. You were not there when he denounced our union. You did not see how passionately he was against it. I truly believe that there is nothing he would not do to put a stop to my marriage to Chloe. With that in mind, if there is going to be a wedding at all, it has to be as soon as humanly possible. And there is going to be a wedding, Harold. I have lost so much… I have even lost her once before. I will not… I can not go through that again."

"I do admire you for that, Your Majesty," Harold said honestly. "But the people are beginning to suffer. You have been busy as you said, so you may not have seen, but riots are growing in frequency as well as strength. For now, everything is being held under control. But I fear these riots can only get worse."

"And I will handle that when the time comes. Once Chloe and I are wed, the threat that Philip will keep us apart will be gone. That will leave us to concentrate solely on the mayhem between Nero and Mucche, and within Nero's own walls. That I can handle. What I can not handle is someone trying to keep Chloe from me. The people will just have to accept that."

"Will you at least make an announcement, Your Majesty?" Harold pleaded. Brady was beginning to be so unlike himself. Perhaps all those years of being forced to put others needs ahead of his own were finally showing deep consequences.

"Yes, of course. There are some things that I must attend to first, but you can set up an announcement for this afternoon," Brady stated. "Now, if you will excuse me," Brady said, walking passed Harold and towards the door. He stopped before he reached for the doorknob, turning back around to face Harold again. "Actually, make that tomorrow morning. I will not be available until quite late, and I am certain the people are quite sick of me waking them at all hours of the night."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Harold stated. Brady turned then and exited the room. Harold quickly left as well, turning up the hallway away from the Great Hall. He was on his way to the Royal Hall when he spotted who he had been looking for.

Shawn had returned two days after he left Nero and had stayed in the Palace since. His people had been very welcome of the news he brought. It had not been good news of course, but they were pleased just the same because he was finally becoming involved in their lives again. All had been supportive of him returning to Nero for as long as it took. The sooner Nero beat down the enemy Mucche, the sooner the citizens of Rubino could sleep peacefully without fear of being abducted from their peaceful homes. So Shawn had returned to Nero with the encouraging words of his council and people behind him. But he had returned to nothing… nothing but wedding plans. Brady rarely let Shawn speak his worries about what Philip might be up to. Brady would not let anyone speak any discouraging words around him. He was in far too elated of a mood to allow anything to bring him down. Most were amazed Shawn had stayed as long as he had. They also believed he might leave at any time. They could only hope it was not for good.

"Your Majesty, a word?" Harold asked as he approached Shawn.

"If you will stop calling me "Your Majesty," you may speak anything you wish," Shawn stated, a slight half grin on his face.

"I have serious matters to discuss, Shawn," Harold stated tiredly, dropping the formalities. "Please no joking tones tonight." Shawn sobered up, looking at Harold with much concern.

"What is wrong, Harold? Is something dreadfully the matter?" Shawn asked seriously.

"Have you seen Brady yet today?" Harold asked, shifting the clipboard he most always carried with him over to his left arm.

"Not today. But I was just on my way to meet with him. I believe it is about time for me to be heading home. Brady seems not to be interested in any further movement on the Mucchean front, so I can not see that I have any further business here. I have an entire country at home that needs my attention far more then these goings-on's."

"I do wish you would not leave, Shawn," Harold replied. "I am at my wits end here. Riots are beginning to break out all over… I truly fear for the people, and for Brady. You are perhaps the only level-headed person left in the city that holds any real power of persuasion with Brady. Brady will not listen to my concerns… and he certainly will not listen to any of the council members. If you leave, there will be no one who could possibly get through to Brady."

"What concerns do you have?" Shawn inquired.

"I believe we share the same concern. I know you see it too," Harold replied. "As much as it pains me to say it… I am fearful that Brady is becoming so involved with Chloe that he is ignoring the suffering of his people." Shawn nodded solemnly in agreement.

"You are right. I do see it. I had begun to see signs of that before Brady and Chloe even left for negotiations in Mucche," Shawn stated. "But I do not see how I can help with that. Brady is a very stubborn man. He is so set in his ways. And I am sure you have seen my efforts to make him listen to reason. He has denied all those efforts."

"Perhaps… but you are his friend. You have known him longer and you shared similar interests. If there is anyone among us who could still possibly get through to him in time, it would be you. So won't you stay? I know it is a lot to ask of you. It is much to ask to keep you away from your own home."

"There are some good things about being in Nero," Shawn stated. And Harold knew exactly what he meant.

"Yes, well… that means you will stay then?" Harold asked, allowing a slight, hopeful smile to grace his lips.

"If you wish it so, then yes," Shawn stated. "I would do anything that you wished."

"Anything?" Harold asked, a sly note to his tone. A few council members turned the corner of the hallway they were in, and both Harold and Shawn straightened their faces, forcing their smiles away. "I do have some ideas on how to go about solving that problem, Your Majesty. Would you be free to meet with me later?"

"Yes, of course."

"Splendid. Then I shall see you later this afternoon. I have a few errands I must attend to first, but I will get them all out of the way to free up the entire afternoon for us to… solve that problem," Harold stated. The council members passed, nodding a greeting in Shawn and Harold's direction, before they disappeared around another corner in the maze that was the Palace hall system.

"That would be just fine. I will look for you about sunset then," Shawn stated. He then disappeared around the corner where the council members had gone. He did still wish to talk to Brady. Brady had said he wished for him to attend the wedding. If it was going to be soon, as it appeared it would be, there would be little point in him leaving for Rubino only to return a few days later.

Though, as Shawn walked down the hallways towards the Great Hall, a strange feeling over-whelmed him. As he got closer to where the wedding was to be held, the atmosphere seemed somehow different. He knew it was just his imagination. These so called feelings and insights, which one of his more eccentric council members swore must be some type of witchcraft or psychic connection, had been happening from time to time ever since his beloved parents passed away. The feelings only got stronger after the loss of his sweet Isabella. She had had an insight for things as well. It was as if she was still trying to do good, trying to spread her goodness to others, by making Shawn feel the things that could prove helpful to others. Only a creature as good and innocent as his Isabella would still be compelled to help others even after being sent to her own premature grave. But these insights, or whatever one wished to call them, had never steered Shawn in any positive direction to help others. All they succeeded in was placing added stress upon himself, and often those around him.

It felt to Shawn that there was something dark in the air, like only disaster could come from all of the events that had happened as of late. But Shawn forced these terrible thoughts from his mind. He did not need to worry himself with thoughts and images that would never come to pass. Because if his insights were true, and the wedding did not happen… that would surely kill Brady. Or worse. Losing Chloe could turn the goodness in his heart around and force him to become a monster blinded by hatred that no one could possibly control… or escape from…….

Philip sighed heavily as he read over the letter which Michael had handed him moments ago. One week ago, his spies had returned to Mucche with tales of their "unjust" imprisonment. They all had a personal score to settle with Brady and his countrymen now, even though it had been Brady who set them all free. So, rather than having to bring in new men who would have to be trained and briefed to be his informants, Philip had granted the Carvers the job of guarding the Neroean Palace to wait for the perfect time to kidnap Chloe. Provided, of course, that this time, they were not so careless as to allow themselves to be captured.

A messenger was sent back and forth between Nero and Mucche on a fairly regular basis during the last week. The Carvers did seem to be showing they were prepared to prove their worth. But the messages Philip received did little good. Chloe had not been left alone and unguarded for even a moment in the last week. The fact that Brady was pushing for a marriage so soon worried Philip. He did not want the marriage to go through at all. If Chloe actually married Brady, it would be that much harder for Philip to peacefully, or as peacefully as kidnaping can be at least, dissuade his sister from consorting with their enemy. He would still take Chloe to Mucche and stage her death, but Philip longed for Chloe to go with him of her own free will. Not that she would do that, but the chance of it was even slimmer if she actually went through with the marriage.

"Bad news, Your Majesty?" Cynthia asked as she came up to Philip. Philip had been sitting alone on the courtyard steps when Michael had brought him the letter. He'd stayed outside to read it. The fresh air helped to clear his mind and the location, in a strange way, helped sooth him. It might have been the place that he and Chloe had been taken from their homes, but it was also the last place that he and Chloe had ever been happy together. The courtyard was rarely used for anything significant. It almost felt to Philip that having people there tainted the significance of the place. As Cynthia sat down beside him on the second to last step, her skimpy skirt barely covering any of her slender thigh, Philip felt as though that concept went double for her. And yet, he would not make her leave.

"No, not bad news. Just not good news," Philip stated. He folded up the letter, tossing it aside in frustration. "It looks as if the wedding is going to go through, maybe before the next week is over. And Chloe has not been left alone for even a moment, nor has she even set foot out of the Palace. The Carvers can not even get close to Chloe, let alone lure her out of the Palace. I do not think this plan of yours is going to work, Lady Cynthia. If we can not get her before the wedding happens…"

"We will, Your Majesty. Be patient. Everything will work out in your favor. Maybe not as planned, but what will it matter as long as you are the victor?" Cynthia asked.

"If not according to our original plan, then how is this going to work in my favor?" Philip inquired.

"We shall address that when we come to it, Your Majesty. You put too much faith in this marriage holding your sister to Brady. If they are married, it will not be impossible to break them apart. It might even give you more fuel to use to convince Chloe that Brady took advantage of her," Cynthia stated. "For now, you just tell your men to stop fooling around and start trying to make Chloe be left alone. I still have faith we can get her out before the wedding. In fact, if it worked out that we got to Chloe the day of the wedding… well, that would make it all the more devastating for Brady Black. I would personally not be concerned until Chloe is walking down the aisle. Even after that, we still may have our chance. It just may take longer then expected.

"Alright, Lady Cynthia, I will not show cause for alarm just yet," Philip stated as he stood up. "But you just remember what I told you before," Philip said in a warning tone, referring to his statement that he would hold her responsible if anything went wrong. Cynthia just smiled as Philip glared down at her.

"I do remember, Your Majesty. You just go on and write your reply. Everything will work out as it should," Cynthia stated.

"You should hope that it does," Philip stated. He turned then and picked up the letter before turning to walk back into the Palace. Cynthia just shook her head, she too standing from the step. She walked down the remaining steps into the courtyard as she had almost sensed that Philip did not wish her to be there. His threats seemed idle now. She had been concerned at first, but she knew now Philip would not act upon them. She had him wrapped around her little finger… she was in complete control. And she was going to remain that way, no matter what……

Brady opened the door to his bed chambers, relieved to be finally retiring for the evening. He had spent the rest of the day meeting with all sorts of people pertaining to the wedding. Brady had to arrange for large amounts of flowers, roses of varying shades of course, as well as centerpieces of edelweiss and lilacs for the reception tables. He also had to interview artisans. There was someone to do initiations, but there would be someone else entirely to paint wedding portraits. Brady also met with just about every chef in the country and every possible form of entertainer imaginable. Everyone in the kingdom seemed to want to be involved in the royal wedding. At least everyone that was not currently despising Brady for being so involved in the wedding that he didn't notice his people's outcries.

A riot had broken out that evening as Brady had met in the courtyard with the entertainers. One man, a farmer who was going to lose his land because he hadn't the means or money to pay his taxes due to flooding and a lack of cotton seeds available to him, had stormed into the courtyard, demanding council with King Brady. The guards had apprehended him before he reached Brady, and the short tempered man had not cared much for that. He, though a simple farmer, had fought with the guards to free himself. And that had started a chain reaction. A group of men in the courtyard, three men who had come to perform a piece of a play for Brady, came to the farmer's aid, as they saw his apprehension as unlawful. Another group of men had jumped in to defend Brady's honor and right to do what he deemed lawful. Before long, the entire courtyard was engaged in one huge brawl. And all the while, Brady watched, helpless to stop it… and he had not even noticed the poor farmer before his guards had taken it upon themselves to contain him.

The brawl did eventually come to an end. No arrests were made, at Brady's request. He had sent for one of his men to bring a bag of cotton seeds from the Royal Supply for the farmer to take free of charge. Brady had personally apologized to the man for all the trouble. Since the man would have to work hard enough as it was to produce a very late crop, Brady had promised to speak personally with Lord Craig Wesley on the farmer's behalf. Lord Wesley ran a very large farm closer to Nero's southern border, but he was also recently put in charge of over-seeing land seizures. Be it tax dodgers or law breakers, there was often some bit of land to seize, and Lord Wesley was the man in charge of its over-taking, as well as its resale. Brady had apologized to everyone else in the courtyard as well, dispatching them all with a promise that he would take more care to see to their needs.

Brady was very glad to be free to return to his chambers for the night. He wished to first talk with Chloe about setting the date for their wedding. His brief meeting with Shawn had given him another reason to put urgency in the setting of the date. It would not be a wedding without Shawn in attendance. His sister Isabella, had she been alive today, would have been very disappointed if Brady did not do everything within his power to insure that Shawn was present at his wedding. After hopefully getting a date set, Brady then planned to prepare a speech for the announcement he had promised Harold he would make in the morning, before retiring to a relaxing bath with his beloved Chloe before bed.

Brady did not see Chloe as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. But the door to the balcony was open, so Brady knew she must be out on it. The balcony was mostly for public announcements, but Brady often stood out there to clear his mind before going to bed. He and Chloe were much alike; Brady assumed that that was Chloe's intention as well. Without the torches around the balcony being lit, no one would see anyone standing out there this late at night and assume that a public announcement was going to be held.

Brady removed his belt and sword scabbard, placing them on his desktop. He kicked off his boots and placed them at the foot of the bed. In his bare feet now, Brady pushed aside the balcony curtains which were fluttering loosely in the wind and walked out onto the balcony. Sure enough, Chloe was standing outside at the edge of the balcony, looking up at the night sky. There was little moonlight, and no torches were lit so no one below could see them, or even know they were there. Chloe was dressed in her night garments with a white silken robe wrapped about her to protect her against the night breeze. The wind whipping gently around her robes and hair made her look practically angelic. Brady wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Feeling better?" Brady asked in a low voice. Chloe nodded, placing her hands over his on her abdomen.

"Yes, I feel much better," Chloe said. Of course, it was a lie. She had rest some. But she could not sleep. She dared not, least her dreams be plagued as they always were. The rest had not done much good. She still felt exhausted, but it was not as bad as it was before. At least his arms around her seemed to calm her nerves a bit. "Did you get everything taken care of that you needed to?"

"Well, for today at least. I promised I would have a decision on the invitations by tomorrow. There is still much to be taken care of. But I am finished for the night at least," Brady answered.

"You took care of the situation in the courtyard I take it?" Chloe inquired.

"How did…"

"Harold brought up some supper an hour ago. He told me about what happened. You know Harold… he loves his gossip," Chloe stated. Brady chuckled, nodding his head.

"Yes, that is Harold all right. And yes, I did handle the situation. Everything it under control. Just a misunderstanding," Brady stated.

"Well I am glad everything worked out," Chloe stated. She shivered slightly despite his arms around her as a stronger wind blew passed.

"Come on, lets go inside. You'll catch your death out here in that outfit," Brady said in a half teasing, half serious manner. Chloe nodded and he unraveled his arms from around her, taking her hand to lead her back inside. Chloe headed for her vanity, sitting down to comb her wind-blown hair as Brady pulled the balcony doors shut, latching them. He then made his way over to the couch, seating himself down at one side of the plush furniture. From the couch, he had a perfect view of the vanity, and he so loved to watch Chloe brush her long, gorgeous hair.

"Miss Elizabeth asked for me to inform you that there would be some final fittings that must be done tomorrow evening," Brady stated as he watched Chloe brush her hair. Miss Elizabeth was the seamstress who was making Chloe's wedding gown. "She said she was going to get it done today if she had to work all night. She wanted you for fittings first thing in the morning, but I convinced her to take her time on the gown, so the quality would be the best possible. But she is just very anxious to see it on you. This is the first time she is making something of this much importance you know. Her older sister, Josephine, was the one to sew Marlena's wedding gown. And it was their mother Pauline who sewed my mothers, so Elizabeth is very excited to finally have her chance to live up to her family's reputation of beautiful wedding gowns. She promised that it would be a gorgeous gown."

"I am sure it will be," Chloe said half-heartedly. She dreaded having to stand through more fittings. It would just be final alterations to assure a perfect fit, so it hopefully would not take as long as it had today. But knowing Miss Elizabeth, a very prideful woman who put all her pride and effort in to every gown she crafted, it would not be a very quick fitting. Brady stood from the couch, coming over to Chloe at the vanity. He took the ivory toothed comb from her hands, lying Chloe's hands to rest still on her lap and began to take over the task of brushing her hair for her.

"Miss Elizabeth said that you did not seem too excited about preparing your wedding down," Brady stated as he ran the brush slowly through her silken hair. "Are you sure that you are feeling well, love? If you are ill, we have a very good healer here in the Palace. Whatever troubles you, surely he can cure it."

"I doubt that," Chloe muttered under her breathe.

"What did you say?" Brady asked, pausing in his task.

"Nothing," Chloe replied. "Do not worry, Brady. I am not ill. I was just very tired is all."

"Are you not sleeping well?" Brady asked, continuing to brush her long hair.

"No, I would suppose I am not," Chloe stated. "But it is nothing important. I will be just fine after a good nights rest."

"Alright, if you are sure. But do not hesitate to say something if you should change your mind. I can call for him any time day or night," Brady assured. "In fact, I am sure he would have something to help you sleep, should you want it."

"I do not want it," Chloe stated. "But it is nice to know that it is available if I should desire it. You can stop brushing now. My hair will get too flat if it's brushed too much," Chloe said. Brady nodded, lying the brush down on the vanity in front of her. He placed his hands on her shoulders now, gazing at their reflection in the mirror.

"I thought that since it is still somewhat early, we could discuss the wedding plans," Brady stated. "I picked out a few of the sample invitations to show you. And there is still the matter of deciding on the exact date. You know, all these preparations do not mean much until a date is set."

"Brady, I am just too tired tonight," Chloe stated, shaking off his gentle grip on her shoulders. She stood, making her way over to a window beside the balcony door. The window's curtains were already tied back so she could look out the window at the darkness outside. "Can we not just talk about it in the morning, when I am more rested?"

"We would already have this out of the way if you would not keep brushing it aside," Brady reminded her. He did not approach her at the window. Instead he stood in front of the vanity where he had been and watched her, a hurt, almost disappointed look on his face. "I mean… you answer my questions when I come to you and ask. And you go meet with all those who I ask you to meet with. But you do not take it upon yourself to meet with the seamstress or the caterers or anything like that. You do not come to me with ideas on how the wedding should go. This is your wedding too, you know, Chloe. I would think you would wish it to be perfect, as I wish it to be perfect for the both of us," Brady stated. "Are you just not used to all the lavish attention? Is that what troubles you? You have never really been doted on and have people care about what you want before. So is that what troubles you?"

"No, that's not it at all. I mean… I really am not used to all the attention. But that is not what is bothering me," Chloe replied.

"What is bothering you then? Are you nervous? Do you think everything is going too fast? What is it? Please, tell me why you are so troubled about our wedding," Brady pleaded. "You do want this wedding to happen, don't you?"

"I…" Chloe hesitated, though not intentionally. She did want to marry Brady. She loved him dearly, with all her heart. That she was sure of. But something just kept pulling at her, tearing her in another direction all together. These dreams… these oh so horrifically vivid dreams… they seemed so centered around her and her wedding to Brady. Both dreams had shown her engagement ring fall into a pool of blood. Not just any blood either. The blood of those she loved.

"Chloe?" Brady inquired. He came up to her now, grasping her shoulders to turn her to face him. "You do want to marry me, don't you?" Brady asked, searching her eyes for the truth her words could not fully express. He seemed to be quite fearful of her answer.

"Yes Brady, I do. I really do want to marry you. It's just that…" Chloe started, shaking her head sadly. "Everything has been so confusing. In just under two weeks, my life has been turned completely upside down and back again." Chloe once more shook off his grasp on her, turning towards the center of the room. She seemed to begin to pace nervously now. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, as if she did not quite realize he was still in the room with her. "Ever since Cynthia came to me to say she knew who I really was, life has just been one huge twist after another. You finding out who I really am, the both of us finding out about your past together, you asking me to marry you…"

"Wait… wait just a minute. What did you say?" Brady asked. He still stood at the window. Chloe stopped pacing, turning to face him from where she stood in the center of the room.

"Life has just been one huge twist after another?" Chloe replied.

"No no, not about that. About Cynthia. What did you say about Cynthia?" Brady demanded, though not really in a harsh tone.

"Oh, that," Chloe said. But then it hit her. "Oh… that." Chloe had never told Brady that Cynthia had threatened her. She couldn't before Brady learned her identity because that would implicate her as Chloe Kiriakis. And after he found out… it had honestly slipped her mind. She did not know how something like that could be so easily forgotten. But with Brady's proposal and everything else, Cynthia had been the last thing on her mind. To be honest, Chloe had been as surprised to see Cynthia in Mucche as Brady had been.

"Yes, that. What did you mean by that?" Brady inquired.

"I did mean to tell you before," Chloe insisted. "I just… with everything going on…"

"Well you can stop stalling and tell me now," Brady interrupted. This took away some of Chloe's fear, replacing it with a flash of anger and annoyance. Both of them were rather quick tempered. It took little to set them off, and the two's tempers together made for a terrible combination.

"Cynthia knew who I was," Chloe snipped. "Before I told you who I really was, Cynthia came to me and told me she knew I was Victor Kiriakis' long lost daughter. She knew I was really Chloe Kiriakis. I don't know exactly how she knew, but she knew. And she threatened to take that information to Philip."

"That's how she knew!" Brady exclaimed, coming to an understanding. "That is how she came to be in Mucche long before us. She already knew about your real identity. That is why she went to Philip," Brady stated. "But wait… you knew? You knew before we ever even left for Mucche that Cynthia would be there. You knew that Philip would be prepared for our arrival."

"I am so sorry I could not tell you before. After Cynthia's threats, I told you who I really was. I wanted you to find out from me, not from them," Chloe said. "I was going to tell you everything that night that I came to your chambers. I wanted to tell you everything, even about Cynthia. But then we… got distracted. And in the morning, everything was just so… so confused and jumbled. I just… I forgot about Cynthia's warning."

"Forgot? How could you forget something like that?" Brady demanded.

"I was scared, alright!" Chloe exclaimed. "I was scared to tell you before. And with everything going so well between us… I did not want to ruin that. And after that first day, I really did just put it completely out of my mind. I was scared to ruin the happiness I was experiencing, Brady. Everything that ever goes well for me always gets ruined."

"Chloe, when have I ever given you a reason to be afraid?" Brady asked, trying to calm his voice. "I have never done anything that would cause grounds for distrust. I know there was the incident with your brother and my intentions… but I have never given you a reason to not trust that I would never harm you."

"I was still afraid all the same. By the time I thought of Cynthia, it was too late to tell you. I did not remember her warning until I saw her in Mucche with Philip," Chloe said honestly. "I thought if I told you after that, it would upset you. And then you would be angry with me… mad at me."

"Of course I would be upset Chloe," Brady said crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you realize the embarrassment… the pain that could have been avoided if you had just told me about this before we approached your brother? Things might have turned out differently if I had just known… I could have been more prepared to handle the confrontation with Philip," Brady stated. "And to be quite honest Chloe… I am more upset, more hurt, that you waited until now to just blurt out this secret you hid from me. If you had told me before, we could have talked through it."

"Brady, I…"

"No, don't. Just… don't," Brady interrupted. "I am trying my hardest to be completely honest with you, Chloe. That is difficult for me, you know. I have never had anyone so important in my life that I needed to accommodate for. It has always just been me. I have a tendency to keep things to myself. Despite that, I am trying my very best to be honest with you, to be the kind of man who is a good and faithful husband. To tell you everything that concerns us both, or even just things that may only be important to me. Because that is what a relationship is, Chloe. It is sharing and trusting and having the utmost faith in each other," Brady stated. "You seem to expect honesty from me, Chloe. You showed that when you reacted so strongly to my not informing you about the possible attack on your brother. And yet, I am not to expect the same level of honestly from you?"

"That is not fair, Brady. It is not fair for you to turn this all around on me."

"No, it is not fair," Brady stated. He shook his head sadly as he walked towards the door, grabbing his boots along the way as he had done a week before after their last argument. "But if you really knew me as I thought we knew each other, you would know that was not what I was trying to do."

"Brady…"

"Lets not make this an argument as we did last time, Chloe. I do not want to say something hurtful that I do not really mean. I love you. I don't want to fight with you. But I am not in a frame of mind enough to talk civilized with you. I need some time to think. We can talk in the morning," Brady stated. Chloe nodded. Not that she had a choice, but it probably was best. She did not want to fight with Brady either.

"Alright. That would be best," Chloe stated. Brady picked up his belt and scabbard off the desk. He carried both those and his boots and, in bare feet, walked out of his bed chambers, closing the door soundly behind him without another word.

Chloe slumped down on the couch, near tears, but refusing to let them fall. Perhaps everything would be fine in the morning. Brady loved her and would not stay upset with her. And she would do her best to not expect perfection from him when she knew well that she could not give perfection to him. Just as Brady had said, Chloe was used to being on her own. She had only her own feelings to worry about most of her life. It was hard adjusting to accommodate for a whole other person. Perhaps that was the only problem. Things were just going too fast, and they were just still not used to the other's emotions and thoughts yet. But as Chloe stood up and sadly made her way over to the bed, laying down, alone, for the second time, when she should be lying next to her husband to be, Chloe began to feel less and less optimistic. Brady and Chloe had some issues they needed to work through, yes. But there was something else underlying the entire situation. And as Chloe pulled the covers over herself, burying her face in Brady's pillow, she could only pray that that something wasn't capable of tearing them apart, as she so feared it would…….


	14. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Author's Notes: This is the point in my tale where I lost my regular beta (Lib, girl, I swear you need to e-mail me!), so since I'm left the only person to proof this long-awaited monstrosety, you'll have to forgive me for the small, and possibly large, mistakes in grammar, spelling, and just generalized me being stupid. This chapter… well, it's a sad one. Depressing is probably more the word, and I hate myself for it, so you'll all likely hate it too. There's some graphicness in the form of death, blood, and gloom… typical of me and my writing by now. I did like the way this one turned out. It was mostly as I had imagined it. I hate myself for it, but I did it rather well. Had to be done. I hope you all enjoy!

Brady lay the blue glass figurine carefully back down onto the merchant's table, picking up the purple tinted teddy bear shaped glass figurine beside it instead. Come sun up, Brady had left the palace, unnoticed via the underground tunnels. He had spent the night in his sister's old room; though it was completely empty, save a small cot which Brady had stored there a year ago, it was possibly the only place in which Brady could feel at true sense of peace. It seemed strange that he could find peace there, given how much the memory of his sweet baby sister's death pained him. And yet, the pain seemed to wash away the moment he entered the room. Even in death, Isabella's spirit, or at least the memory of her presence, could have the same healing effect as when she was alive.

Brady hadn't slept a wink the night before. Every time he closed his eyes to try, he saw Chloe's tear stained face. Brady had been very grateful for the sun's rising, hoping that its warmth would be more inviting than the cold dark of night. Brady had been in the marketplace for hours now, dressed in commoner's clothing so as to not be recognized by the citizens beginning their daily chores and jobs. The marketplace was not the fairly cheerful, bustling place he was used to. But Brady did not notice the change from cheerful to tense and somewhat unwelcoming. He was more concerned with finding a gift for Chloe. It was wrong, he supposed, to buy her a gift every time they had a fight. Brady could not solve their problems with material objects. Nor did he want to. But the trinkets, if even for a moment, put a smile on Chloe's lovely face, and so he wished to find something to make his beloved smile again. After all that had happened, Brady really needed to see that smile again…

"Your Majesty!" The call from somewhere in the crowed turned many heads, including Brady's. He almost dropped the figurine in his hands in doing so, but luckily managed to recover before it slipped from his grasp. From the crowd where the cry had originated came Harold, his clip board which Brady swore must have been sewn to his skin in hand. "Your Majesty! The entire palace has been up in arms searching for you!" Harold exclaimed.

"Shhhh!" Brady shushed, placing the figuring down. "Will you please hold that for me, my good man? I must get my… uncle here home to his medication," Brady stated. "Poor wretch… thinks he is head of the royal council, and I'm the King of Nero!"

"Oh, I hear ya," replied the merchant, nodding as if he understood completely. "Me wife's mother is the same way. Crazy as a loon she is."

"Come now, Uncle Simon. We'll take care of those "pressing royal matters" right away," Brady said in a very patronizing tone. He grabbed Harold by the arm, dragging him away from the merchant's cart. He did not stop pulling on Harold's arm until they were in an alleyway between two small shops, alone and away from the crowd. "What are you trying to do, put the entire city's attention on me!" Brady hissed.

"Why you insist on donning those ridiculous clothes and sneaking out of the palace to mingle with the common class, I will never understand," Harold returned. "Though if the people are dumb enough not to recognize you simply because of a change of clothes… I mean, I could spot you a mile away! But at any rate… being "normal" as you like to put it is highly over rated."

"Yes, well, you have never been anything but normal… except for…" Brady paused, changing his mind. "At any rate, you do not know what it is like for me. Do not judge me, Harold. I neither need nor want your opinion on my personal life," Brady stated, though not cruelly. "Now, I do apologize if I caused anyone any worry. But I had a very difficult night. I wanted to get some air, be away from all the troubles and worries of the palace, and possibly pick up a gift for Chloe."

"Chloe, is it? I should have guessed," Harold murmured. "I should have known hat was why you did not show up."

"Show up for what?" Brady asked.

"Have you truly completely forgotten?" Harold replied worriedly. Brady merely gave him a blank, questioning look as if he was wondering just what the hell Harold was rambling about this time. "The announcement, Your Majesty! You remember, the announcement which you promised me that you would make to the public regarding certain safety and security issues."

"Oh, the announcement! I am so sorry, Harold, I did completely forget about that," Brady apologized. "I have had so much on my mind as of late and, after all, I am only one man. I would not have left the palace this morning had I remembered. I was just very distraught. You see, Chloe and I had a bit of an argument, and…"

"…it upset you so much that you just completely forgot all about your own people, who you have already been neglecting enough as it is?" Shawn finished for Brady as he came up beside Harold in the alleyway. Like Brady, Shawn too was dressed in commoner's clothing. Shawn had been nearby when Harold discovered Brady was no longer in the palace. Wishing to confront Brady about the incident, as well as others, Shawn had changed clothing in an effort to avoid being confronted by anyone in the marketplace. Once changed, he had set out with Harold to track down Brady. Shawn had lost sight of Harold when they got separated in a crowd flocking about the butcher's stand, as there was a sale on seafood, one of Nero's less abundant and therefore more desirable meat products. Shawn had only just spotted Harold across the marketplace as Brady pulled him in to the alley.

"Shawn, what are you doing here?" Brady questioned.

"I am afraid, old friend, that this is perhaps the only place and time that we could actually get your attention long enough to speak with you," Shawn replied.

"Shawn, I am afraid that I do not understand your meaning. You are my friend, I always have time for my friends. Why, we just spoke to each other for a time yesterday, if I recall correctly," Brady stated.

"No, I am afraid you don't Brady, on both accounts," Shawn replied. "If I recall, you squeezed a few moments into your "busy" schedule to talk to me while you fussed over some wedding invitations. I do believe that I did most of the talking. Not to mention, you cut me off before I got to speak what was really on my mind."

"I do not believe I appreciate your tone, Shawn," Brady said, crossing his arms over his chest. "None the less, I am listening now. You have my undivided attention, so why don't you voice whatever concerns it is you have which you claim I will not listen to," Brady suggested.

"It is not just Shawn's concern, Your Majesty. He and I share the same concern," Harold stated.

"And what, pray tell, would that shared concern be?" Brady asked.

"That you are so blinded by your feelings for Chloe that you do not see the suffering of your own people, the people who depend on you for their very survival," Shawn stated bluntly. They had no time for beating around the bush; if this was an intervention, then Shawn was going to make damn sure he got his message across to Brady once and for all.

"What! That is absurd!" Brady exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "I am surprised that you of all people would think so little of me, Shawn. I mean, I expected such a statement from Harold. But never from you."

"And just why not? I am an honest man, am I not? I call them as I see them. And what I see in you now… is something that I never dreamed I would have to witness from a good, caring man such as yourself," Shawn stated.

"Please do not be cross, Your Majesty. We only have your best interests at heart," Harold stated.

"My best interests? Don't you mean your own best interests?" Brady replied angrily. "Don't you mean that everything and everyone else is more important then me? You obviously do not give a damn abut what I want or you would not be confronting me like this. Does my happiness mean nothing? Tell me truthfully. Come now Harold, you are not one to hold your tongue."

"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty," Harold began, "but you did not look very happy when I saw you in the marketplace."

"We do not wish to deprive you of your life, Brady. Please be assured of that. You deserve a life of happiness and prosperity, just as any other man does. We only wish to remind you that… you are not just any man. You have certain responsibilities which you must never forget. We only wish to remind you of your priorities, Brady. You are a King after all."

"Just because I am a King does not mean I should have to forfeit my life for the sake of others. There is not a person in this kingdom who would give up their life so that I may live mine. They would die for the sake of honor and loyalty and to protect their loved ones, but none of them care about me as a person. They only see me as a King, bound to do their mindless bidding," Brady stated. He shook his head, brushing past Shawn and Harold to move towards the alley's entrance. "I did not ask for this responsibility."

"You may not have asked for it," Shawn began, reaching out for Brady. He grabbed him by the arm and pulled him around, forcing him to face them eye to eye. "But it is your responsibility all the same. I know it is hard, Brady. Believe me, I know. I have lived the drama. I know what it is like to feel cheated out of the life I wanted for myself. I'm sure you have not forgotten why. And I know what it is like to lose a love," Shawn said, letting go of Brady's arm. "I understand that you would do anything not to lose Chloe. If I could, I would do anything to bring back my Isabella. I know you don't want to lose Chloe like you have lost everything else that you love. And no one could every try to deny you that right. But this isn't you, Brady. You are not acting like the kind of man that I know you really are. What has happened to you, my friend? Why do you so adamantly ignore the suffering of your people who once seemed to matter so much to you?"

"I am not ignoring anyone's suffering," Brady replied. "I notice everyone's suffering… and that includes my own. I have realized now that my entire life, I have ignored my own sorrow, my own desires, for the sake of others. All my life, I have spent tending to other people's needs. Even as a child, my father needed me inside training to be King, training to rule over an entire country of people who are either too ignorant or too lazy to take care of themselves. I was trained to handle all their petty problems and taught how to fight in order to protect their freedoms and their futures, when I should have been outside playing with the other children. Before I even had a chance at life, my father died, and the people needed me to sacrifice my life for all of their needs and wants."

"Well, I am tired of sacrificing, Shawn," Brady continued. "I have never wanted anything as much as I want to spent my life with Chloe. I will not let this be ruined because of a responsibility I did not ask for. I love Chloe, and I won't let anyone take her away from me."

"You are not even listening to us!" Harold exclaimed. "No one is trying to take Chloe away from you. Everyone is very pleased that you have finally found someone to spend your life with. The entire kingdom is happy for you, you've seen that yourself. Happy enough that they have managed to overlook your chosen bride's lineage to see you marry the woman you love. But you can not simply abandon your people. You can not be completely absorbed by this one thing in your life. Nor should your life be completely devoid of love. You need to find a medium between your love and your country. We all depend on you, whether you can handle that or not."

"Easier said than done, Harold," Brady replied dryly. "I appreciate your concerns. But your words are falling on deaf ears. I do not have it in me to take your words to heart. All I can assure you of is that I do still care about my people, even though they do not care for me unless I abide strictly by their standards. I can and will be a good king. But I will no longer give myself completely to this cause. I have finally found something that makes me whole again. And I will be damned if I let that go." Brady once again moved passed Shawn and Harold, deeply concerned looks on both of their faces.

"Brady, please…"

"No, Shawn. I will not put my life on hold for anyone else a moment longer. I am sorry there is suffering in the world. But one man alone can not put an end to it all. Least of all a man who is suffering himself," Brady said. "Do not think that I am wicked and that I do not care. I do care. I will do what I can to ease the suffering of my people, just as I have in the past. But I simply can no longer handle the pressure of my birth rite when I know it means I can never have companionship. I can not properly govern these people until I am happy. And I will not be happy until Chloe and I are married," Brady stated firmly. With that, he walked away from his two worried friends, never once looking back. What concerned them most was that they knew he meant it. There was no life for Brady if not with Chloe. And if Brady did not have Chloe, then the entire kingdom would suffer great hardships. Hardships that would perhaps never to overcome if Nero was left open to its vengeful, destructive neighbors…..

The darkness that was around her did not phase her. Everywhere for miles to see was dark nothingness. The once proud city of Nero lay in ruins around her. Buildings crushed and destroyed by catapults; shops and homes destroyed by fires. Fires which were still burning. These fires were the only color to be seen. Everything else was black and charred. Gardens and fields were reduced to black, lifeless craters. There was no sound, save the crackling of the flames that were consuming what little remained of the city. Nero was a desolate wasteland. But she did not care.

Beyond the mountains, she could see light. In the land untouched by the evil which had laid ruin to Nero, she could see luscious green life. From that unsoiled land flew a single while dove, carrying a green sprig, as if the magnificent creature wished to bring new life to the ruined city. She smiled to see the majestic, pure creatures which stood out so profusely from the barren city. But when the dove flew across the mountains and into the city, it too, like everything else around her, turned to ash mid-flight. The pure white dove was reduced to black nothingness, and its ashes were carelessly blown away by the cruel winds which had once carried the lovely creature's delicate wings. Her smiled faded as the sprig of green life which the dove had carried fell from the sky into the merciless flames below.

Despite the bleak surroundings, she was not afraid. Nor was she sad. She was safe there, or so she believed. She now stood where the once beautiful Royal Palace's gardens had been. In front of her were the ruins of what used to be a small stream which flowed through the gardens, both for irrigation and beauty. Now it was lifeless and dry. All that flowed through it was ash and blood. Behind her was the palace, still ablaze with the hateful flames which had engulfed the once glorious city. The flames seemed to reach up to the blackened heavens for miles, and any other person standing so close to the inferno the Palace had become would have fled. But she did not, for the heat and the flames could not touch her. The blood of the dead surrounded her, and yet she remained unmoved, unspoiled in just the same manor as the dove had been.

In contrast of the cruelty around her, she was in full, vibrant color, standing out from the wasteland just as the dove had stood out before it too became nothing but ash. Her long, brown hair flowed freely down her swanlike neck and shoulders. Her purple dress which hung loose to her ankles was clean and unmarred despite the thick, ash-filled air which blanketed the city. And her feet, though bare, stood on the only piece of earth which was not scorched. Her pale white skin was completely clean, untouched by ash. Her cheeks held a slight blush, giving color to her frail beauty. The glow of the flames behind her seemed to pail in comparison to the glow which radiated from the unmarred beauty standing all alone in the decaying gardens.

But suddenly, she was no longer alone. A hand reached out from behind her to grasp her shoulder. She whirled around to face its owner, her hair whipping about her wildly. She reached up to brush the hair from her face so that she could see, and smiled fondly at what she found. Standing before her now was a tall man, clad in a warrior's uniform, his sword still in hand. He and the sword both were covered in blood, as if fresh from a monstrous battle. Along his left cheek was an angry gash, dark blood still trickling from the deep wound which added to the ferocity of his appearance. And yet she was not alarmed; she knew and trusted this man with her life. The warrior reached out and touched her cheek, unintentionally smearing blood on her previously unspoiled flesh. But she did not mind.

As she reached up to touch the warrior's injured cheek, she finally did notice something that alarmed her, something which she did not notice before. A dark aura surrounded the warrior; a dark, malicious cloud which was darker then even the ruin around them. This dark aura hovered about the warrior, contouring to his armor-clad body in a manor that made it appear as if it was suffocating him. And yet it was not; the bloody battle which she knew he had initiated had made the darkness a part of him.

Before she could reach out to the warrior, he snapped his hand back from her cheek, rejecting her touch. In one lightning quick motion, the warrior pulled his sword back. Before she even had a chance to take a breath, the warrior plunged the sword forward, the malicious blade piercing into her skin and ripping into her abdomen. In her shock, she fell forward onto the blade, plunging it completely through her frail body. Her life's blood spilled out over the warrior's hands, just as the blood of so many before her. The warrior pulled his sword back, and with nothing left to support her, she crumbled to her knees. Clutching her stomach as if to keep her precious life's blood from leaving her body, she fell, her back to the cold, baron ground.

At the exact moment the blade made contact with her flesh, everything around them froze. Not that there was much around them any more. But the warrior could still feel everything else around them stop; even she, dying on the cruel, raped wasteland that was once a flourishing garden, could sense the world around them simply cease to be. The flames consuming what little was left of the city just stopped burning. They were still there, reaching high up to the heavens, but it was as if time itself had frozen, for everything but them.

As she lay dying, her raspy breath sounding deafening in her own ears, her vibrate colors began to fade away. Her hair turned gray at first, and then became white as snow, completely devoid of all skin. Her pale skin became even paler, and her luscious full, red lips were no longer red, but a pure white. Her once vibrant purple dress turned black, then gray, and then finally it too became just as white as all of her other once beautiful features. The only color with remained was that which had caused her life to come towards its end. The blood spilling from her fragile body seem to became more colorful, more vibrant, as the life was drained from her.

With every ounce of her remaining strength she lifted up her hand, now stained and dripping with her own blood. She reached out to the warrior who towered over her, silently begging him to put an end to the madness, the searing pain which his hand had set in motion. But he would not help her. He watched her struggle with each breath she took, and yet he did nothing. He did not look on her with pride or enjoyment, though he had been the one to do this to her. But neither did he look on her with sorrow. Though the dark aura remained about him, the warrior himself was not an evil who would wish her harm. He merely was, she could see that now. Something beyond her understanding was the true cause of her suffering. The man before her was simply its messenger. Her fate was not one she could avoid.

Warm blood trickled down her snow-white forearm. But blood can't stay warm forever. A numbing coldness began to overtake her body, releasing her from the pain's of life. Her hand still raised to him for help, she took the breath that would be her last. As she blew out her final breath, her body began to turn to ash. Her white body slowly turned black. And then her body exploded in a wave of gray ash, carried carelessly away by the wind. These winds blew across the warriors face, dirtying his cheeks and forehand with the only thing that remained of her… the only thing that remained of Chloe Kiriakis…..

Chloe jolted up with a gasp. Struggling for air as if she had been deprived of it for a life time, she looked around her to find that she was in the safety of Brady's chambers. In their bed, in the palace, which was not on fire, in the city of Nero, which was not a destroyed wasteland. Her hands were clutched on her stomach, but there was no blood. Chloe, still breathing heavily to calm herself, looked around the room which was dimly lit by the early morning sun, hoping to find Brady. She had removed the canopy curtains from the bed the night after she and Brady first made love, because she had a habit of keeping candles on the night stand which could prove hazardous, so she had a clear view of the room, save for her blurry, unfocused vision. But Brady was not there. Suddenly, she remembered why. They had fought again the night before, and Brady had left to keep the fight from growing more intense. Her eyes could not focus well in the dimly lit room, but she did not need to be able to see clearly to know he would not be anywhere in sight.

It was then, as she made that realization, that the door to the chamber opened. Chloe squinted her eyes against the newly found bright light from the torch-lit hallway, to see who had opened the door. When she managed to focus on the source, she gasped in surprise at the sight before her. Brady stood tall just inside the doorway, a warm smile on his face. That was normal, she supposed, despite the condition he was in when he stormed out of their room last night. What was not normal, however, was the dark aura that seemed to surround him. Despite his happy, positive stance, there was a darkness about him that seemed to be a part of him. Perhaps it was only her imagination, too fresh from such a horrible nightmare to focus on reality. Perhaps it was merely the contrast of the light behind him with the dim lighting of their room. As Brady stepped towards her, the dark aura faded, almost proving that it was merely the lighting. But for some reason, the imagine of her fiancé surrounded by the same darkness which had meant her death in her nightmare was burned into the back of her eyes. This warning was one that she could not forget, no matter how hard she tried….

"I'm glad you're awake," Brady said cheerfully as he approached Chloe, still in bed. "It's still quite early I know, but I did not wish to have to wake you."

"I… uh… just woke up, actually," Chloe said, involuntarily drawing away from Brady as he sat down on the edge of the bed on his side. Brady noticed the change, but would not question it. They had just had a terrible fight after all. He could not expect her to just simply forget that, although he wished they both could. "I thought you had an announcement to make this morning?"

"I did… but I have decided that I need to settle some things with you beforehand. I am no good to my people if I am too worried about my personal life to concentrate on them," Brady stated.

"You shouldn't think like that, Brady. Your people are far more important than I am. I am not suffering the way they are. They need you," Chloe replied.

"You are more important to me, Chloe. Whether it be right or wrong, I can not bring myself to be concerned, to the level I should be at least, with other people until I am sure that you and I are alright," Brady said. "Do you think that we could talk? About us, and the problems that we have been facing?"

"I… not right now, Brady," Chloe said hesitantly, scooting off the bed, as sheet wrapped about herself.

"Chloe, please. We need to…"

"I know we need to talk, Brady. I only meant… I did just wake up. I would like to at least get dressed first if you don't mind," Chloe said.

"Oh, yes, of course," Brady replied, standing from their bed. "I will leave you alone to get dressed. Take your time. I'm sure you will wish to have some breakfast as well. Perhaps we can meet later, in the orchards?"

"That would be nice," Chloe replied, sitting at her vanity to remove a few hair pins from her hair she had neglected to remove before falling asleep last night. Brady nodded, coming up behind her at the vanity.

"Excellent. I will be waiting for you there, in about an hour we'll say," Brady said. He bent down, placing a quick kiss on Chloe's cheek. He stood quickly, retreating away as if he had been hesitant to kiss her so soon after their argument. Brady quickly exited the room, closing the door soundly behind him without another word.

Chloe sighed sadly, standing up to walk towards the closet where all her clothes were kept. Her mind was racing with jumbled thoughts and feeling as she reached for a dress. She did not take note of the dress she chose, merely picking at random. Her appearance meant so little right now, with so much going on in her life. Chloe dropped the sheet around her, throwing it back onto the disheveled, unmade bed. She pulled off her white, silken night gown, leaving her in only her corset undergarments. She had taken another hot bath last night after Brady left to calm her nerves, so she would not need to do so now. She threw the nightgown onto a folded pile of clothing at the back of the closet; a servant would be in shortly to take the clothes to be cleaned and to make the bed with fresh linen. Chloe took the dressed she had randomly chosen over to her vanity where she proceeded to dress and get ready.

A few minutes later, Chloe was dressed and seated in front of her vanity, brushing her hair. All the while, she was thinking, processing all her thoughts in an effort to come to an understanding. She could not possibly understand what was happening to her now. How could she believe that her dreams were warning signs of the future if those dreams seemed to be pointing towards Brady causing her death? A previous nightmare had showed him killing Philip. Chloe just could not see that happening. Well… she could in a way. She knew Brady was not a weak man, and would defend himself in times of danger. But to think that the man she loved with all her heart would murder a defenseless, sleeping man in cold blood? Absurd! That was not the Brady Black she knew and loved.

And to even consider that Brady would kill her… that was truly insane. Brady would never hurt her, least of all intentionally. Chloe again heaved a heavy, distressed sigh, as she put the brush down. Surveying her sad, depressed expression in the mirror, she considered the option that perhaps the dreams were indeed omens, but figurative and metaphorical rather then literal visions of the future. Perhaps there was a symbolic meaning which she did not quite see. The dreams were often centered around her impending marriage. Perhaps the pain and death simply meant that there would be hardships down the road in her marriage. That was nothing to fear; all people, married or not, faced many hardships in life. That she knew from experience. Or maybe it was just simply cold feet which gave her these terrible visions. Everything had happened so fast for her and Brady. It was possible she was simply nervous about the upcoming wedding. Unfortunately, Chloe feared with every fiber of her body that it would not be as simple as cold feet.

As Chloe reached for a hair pin, her hand instead landed on a broach pin she had accidentally left open on her vanity. Her right index finger touched the sharp pin's edge, drawing blood on contact. She jumped up from her chair with a yelp of pain, jerking her arm roughly back. In doing so, her engagement ring, which was just a tad loose, slipped off of her right ring finger. It clattered loudly on the floor besides her bare right foot as she drew her hand up her mouth. Before her injured finger reached her lips, one solitary drop of blood fell from her tiny wound. It plummeted towards the ground almost as if in slow motion as she watched its decent. The single drop of her blood seemed to take an eternity to fall before it finally landed carelessly on her precious engagement ring.

An alarming chill coursed slowly up her spine as she reached down to retrieve her engagement ring. As her hand closed around the bloodied ring, Chloe was reminded of the first nightmare she had experienced since meeting Brady. Her wedding ring had fallen to the scorched earth, washing a wave of her blood over the land that had lain waste to everything it touched. The sign was subtle, but she knew what it meant none the less. Whether figurative of realistic, her dreams were a sign of things to come, she knew that now. Chloe wiped the blood off with a dry cloth from one of the vanity drawers. She laid the cloth down, holding her ring up in front of her face as she observed the reflection in the mirror.

It was all in her imagination, she was sure, but as she surveyed the reflection of her engagement ring, the mirror seemed to bleed. Blood appeared to stream down the mirror's glass surface, spreading onto her vanity. It quickly began to spread across the vanity's surface, consuming any trinkets or accessories which were kept there. Before the blood could begin to trickle down to the floor and towards her, Chloe closed her eyes shut tight and placed the ring out of her sight into her pocket. When she opened her eyes again, the vision of blood was gone. The only trace of blood to be found was the one little spot on the white cloth where Chloe had cleaned blood off her ring.

Chloe sighed heavily, a certain sadness weighing on her troubled mind and heart. She knew now what she had to do, for everyone's sake. But when she made that final decision, her heart broke, and a little piece of her heart died. A tear streamed down her cheek as she observed her broken expression in the mirror. She had to leave Nero. And that meant she had to leave Brady. There was no other choice now. If she stayed, it could mean the destruction of everything she held dear. Chloe felt as if thousands of lives, including the lives of people she loved, now rested in her hands. She could not put those lives at risk for the sake of her own selfish desires. She could not even bear the thought. Chloe would go to Brady in the gardens. She would tell him she loved him one moment, only to break his heart the next. She would hand Brady back his engagement ring, give up becoming his loving wife, to save them all…….

Brady fumbled restlessly with the apple in his hands, glancing for what had to be the millionth time towards the Palace. He had been outside in the orchards sitting under one of the golden apple tress for nearly two hours now. Chloe was supposed to meet him an hour ago, and yet he had not seen even a glimpse of her. In the two hours he had been waiting, Brady had consumed at least five apples, discarding the cores on the waste heap all the way on the other side of the Palace. He was now too stuffed to so much as think of eating another apple. So he took to tossing one up in the air or tossing it from hand to hand, all in an attempt to keep his mind of his nerves.

Brady tossed the very bruised apple aside in disgust, sighing heavily. He could not imagine what was keeping Chloe. Well, actually, it was his imagination which was causing him such worry. Chloe had not seemed too comfortable with him around her this mourning. She had seemed distraught and withdrawn. Brady hoped it was just simply a matter of her being tired. He knew she was not sleeping well, a fact which worried him even more than her tardiness. Brady hoped that she was not ill; since she refused to see the healer, it was impossible to tell. But Brady somehow felt that Chloe's withdrawal had nothing to do with illnesses or sleepless nights. It was at that point of realization that Brady's imagination had begun to run wild.

Brady had run every possible scenario in his mind. His first thought was that Chloe had merely decided to take a long, hot bath before having Cook prepare her breakfast. Chloe wasn't exactly used to servants waiting on her, but because of her years in slavery, Brady knew she had come to appreciate something so simple as a warm bath. Brady hoped his first theory was correct. Because each scenario after that, the worst being she was simply avoiding him or was indeed ill, could only be described as grim.

Brady stood from the blanket he had been seated on, finally deciding to go looking for her. He would check their room first. Then, if need be, he would check the kitchen. I f he still did not find her, he could go from there. Thought it was a big Palace, Chloe was not familiar with it like he was, and it would be unlikely she could go completely unnoticed for long. Just as Brady was about to pick up the blanket to leave, Chloe emerged from behind one of the trees towards the palace.

"Chloe!" Brady smiled, forgetting all about the blanket and advancing forward to great her. He stretched his arms out to embrace her, but she shied away from his touch. Brady's smiled faded to an angry, hurt frown. "What is wrong? You act as if my touch repulses you."

"It's not that, Brady," Chloe said weakly. She had yet to look him in the eye; she really couldn't bear it. "It's just…"

"It's just what, Chloe?" Brady interrupted. "Just that you can't stand the sight of me? I know last night was difficult, but I can't imagine that is why you won't look me in the eye. What did you come here for if you can't stand to so much as look at me?"

"Well, I certainly did not come here to be yelled at," Chloe snapped, finally meeting his gaze with a cold glare. And yet, though her cheeks were flushed with anger and her eyes showing her sudden flash of anger, there was a sadness there, amplified by the red puffiness around her eyes.

"Then what did you come for?" Brady demanded. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He could see through her own anger, though he did not see she had been crying, only that she was upset. "I do not meant to be cross, Chloe. We live in very trying times, you and I. I am only frustrated, not angry," Brady stated. He hesitantly stepped forward, reaching up to cup her cheek in his hand. "There is something troubling you. You are beginning to worry me, my love. Please. Please tell me what is the matter."

"Brady…" Chloe whispered, closing her eyes. Since the first time they came into physical contact, Chloe had experience a wave of electricity fuse through her body, as if something insider here was reaching out to connect with a missing piece. That still held true, even now, after all they had been through. He ought not to be touching her now. With what she had to do, she could not let herself be distracted. Not even by the magical warmth of his skin against hers could change her mind. She had to leave, before she caused any more damage. Chloe opened her eyes, resting her hand on top of his. Reluctantly, she gently pushed his hand away from her cheek, setting his hand to rest at his side. "We need to talk. I have something that I need to tell you."

"Are you ill? You have not been looking well for days now. Have you gone to the healer as I suggested?" Brady asked.

"No, I haven't. I'm not ill. There's nothing wrong with me physically," Chloe stated.

"Well, what is wrong then that you haven't been sleeping well?" Brady asked, concerned.

"I would tell you if you would stop asking me so many questions," Chloe snapped tiredly. She sighed heavily, attempting to calm her nerves and keep from lashing out. She didn't want to hurt him any more then she knew she had to. "This is very difficult for me to talk about," Chloe said, bringing her hand up to her temple. She was getting a splitting headache, no doubt from all the stress and crying.

"Where is your ring?" Brady asked suddenly.

"What?" Chloe replied, removing her hand from her temple in surprise. Brady grabbed her right hand, bringing it up in front of his face. He had not noticed she was not wearing her engagement ring before. But when she brought her hand up to massage her temple, her bare right hand had been brought to his clear view. With his thumb and forefinger, he held Chloe's ring finger, showing where her engagement ring should have been.

"Your engagement ring. You remember, the thing that symbolizes our impending union in marriage? Where is it?" Chloe jerked her hand away as his tone once again faded from concern to anger. "Did you lose it?"

"No, I did not lose it!" Chloe snapped crossly.

"Where is it then? Why would you think so little of me and our promise to love one another for all eternity that you would misplace your ring?"

"I said I didn't lose it!" Chloe exclaimed.

"What is the meaning of this, Chloe?" Brady demanded.

"It means that I'm…" Chloe paused, stopping herself from blurting out the true reason for her disheveled, troubled state. It was then that she truly realized where they were.

_"The apple orchard is just as nice. Have you ever eaten a golden apple?" Brady asked, referring to the delicious golden yellow apples which grew in the orchard._

_"Can't say I have," Arciana replied._

_"Well, there's always a first time for everything," Brady stated, taking her hand and leading her through the rest of the garden to the apple orchards. He led her to the batch of yellow apple tress, reaching up and plucking a perfect golden apple from it's branches. "Here, try one."_

_"Only if you join me," Arciana replied, taking the apple in her hands. Brady smiled, plucking a second apple from the tree._

_"As the lady wishes," Brady replied. They each took a bite of their apples, and Arciana was instantly in heaven._

_"Mmmmm... this is soooo good!" Arciana said through a mouthful of apple. Brady laughed, swallowing his bite before wiping a bit of juice off the corner of Arciana's lips._

_"The best in all of Salem._ _Isabella practically lived on these, they were often the only thing father and Marlena could get her to eat when she was a child," Brady said. "I don't come out here enough. I should come more often."_

_"It's a very beautiful place, very peaceful," Arciana mumbled through her 2nd bite of apple._

_"That it is," Brady agreed_.

The gardens, particularly the orchards, were sacred to Brady. They had meant so much to Brady's beloved sister who he missed so dearly. They had even been important to Brady's mother, taken so early in his life. How could Chloe possibly taint those memories which Brady held so dear? Though she was leaving him for the greater good, Chloe would sooner die then intentionally cause him pain when it was unavoidable. Her decision to leave was not, but she could at least leave him with those sacred memories untainted.

"You're what, Chloe?" Brady prompted.

"I… I cant do this. I'm sorry, I can't do this!" Chloe exclaimed, near tears. She turned to flee, but Brady halted her efforts, grabbing her by the arm to turn her to face him.

"Wait. Can't what, Chloe? Please. Tell me what's wrong," Brady pleaded. "Whatever it is, we'll get through it together. I love you."

"I love you too, Brady. But we can't get through this together now. I can't do this now. Please just let me go," Chloe pleaded, now openly sobbing. He would think she meant for him to let go of her arm. But he did not understand her hidden meaning. She was pleading with him, silently praying that Brady would forget all about her, forget he ever met her. Chloe's unspoken words told him to accept her departure and move on with his life. But he would not understand. He would never understand.

Chloe once again pulled out of his grasp, turning to flee into the palace. She raced blindly through the courtyard, disappearing from his view before Brady could even react.

"Chloe, wait!" Brady yelled. But she paid no heed, disappearing into the palace via the courtyard entrance. Brady stood dumbfounded for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. As it all sank in, Brady grit his teeth, turned towards the tree behind him, and slammed his balled up fist into the thick trunk with all his strength. He reacted wildly with violence, punching the tree four more times before the sound of his own bones cracking against the hard tree trunk halted his outburst.

Brady pulled his hand back, surveying the bloody knuckles. His ring finger was surely broken. And it was possible his middle finger was as well. But he did not care. The adrenaline pumping through his system was keeping him from even feeling the searing pain he should have been experiencing. With his left, uninjured hand, Brady tore a strip of cloth from the silk red shirt he was wearing, wrapping it skillfully around his injured knuckles. He could have the healer tend to it later. For now, Brady had more important things to attend to. He had to follow Chloe, and straighten this matter out, once and for all……

Chloe burst into Brady's chambers, her body now racked with terrible sobs of anguish. She slammed the door closed behind her and quickly set to work. She had decided she did not have time to write Brady a latter as she had thought she would as she was fleeing for the castle. It was a possibility that Brady would follow her and she would have to tell him face to face that she was leaving. Perhaps she could send word once she was away from the Palace so he would not worry about her or think her dead. But she had to get out of there now, to avoid the confrontation she so feared.

Chloe wiped her blurry eyes free of tears, forcing herself to stop crying long enough to run into her closet, grabbing all of the dresses that she could carry in her arms, which weren't many. She threw them on the bed before grabbing a leather bag which was at the foot of the closet. Harold had used it to bring up an assortment of shoes and footwear for her to try, but she had ultimately chosen only two of the few dozen pairs as she wasn't too used to or fond of shoes. Chloe quickly shoved a few things such as undergarments and the like into her bag over those two pairs of shoes. She moved to the bed, quickly cramming the dresses into the bag with no care as to whether or not they wrinkled; she could deal with that later. Chloe then moved to her vanity, throwing her brush and a few others items into the cluttered bag. She paused when she saw the shelves at each end of the vanity. Midway up the mirror on each side of the vanity was a little wooden slab which served as a shelf.

On the left self, Chloe had placed the two bears which Brady had given to her. On the right was Brady's mother's pink glass figurine which he had given her before he even really even knew her. That she could not take with her. She did not deserve such a wonderful, meaningful gift. But, though it might pain her later, Chloe needed some sort of physical reminder that Brady did love her and she loved him. Chloe took a moment to hold the bears in her hand before placing them lovingly down into her bag atop everything else. She placed the bag down on the vanity chair before closing it. She went back to the closet, grabbing a pair of shoes which were more suitable for walking, taking them and setting on the bed to change her shoes.

She had no money. She had had some on her when she was abducted from the marketplace in Rubino, but the slavers had of course taken that from her. It didn't really matter though. Although Fay and Brandon had wanted to, they had not given Chloe any money when they freed her since money was tight after Lord Paul's death. She had managed just fine then, and she could manage again. Chloe was used to hard, manual labor that other women usually couldn't handle. She could find a job, she was sure.

Chloe quickly changed shoes and stood back up again, making her way back to the vanity. She reached into her pocket, retrieving Brady's engagement ring. Chloe held it with both hands in front of her heart, her eyes closed tight. God above, why did it have to be this way? Brady had been the one good thing in her miserable life. Could she really just leave him like this, no looking back? She loved him with all her heart… she would give anything to be beside him, forever. Anything… except the lives of others. The visions she had been having… horrible, wretched nightmares of such pain and death… those visions were real, in some form or another. Chloe could not possibly risk all those lives as well as possibly Brady's, Philip's and her own, all for the sake of a few moments of happiness. She would never forgive herself if even one person was put into jeopardy by her selfish actions. But if her visions held any truth, more than just one life would be jeopardized. One solitary tear slipped down her cheek, splashing the vanity. Just as she was about to place the ring down on the vanity, the bedroom door opened.

"Chloe, we have to talk." Chloe's heart sank as she heard Brady's voice. He had opened the door with his uninjured hand, and was now standing in the open doorway. "I need to know what the…" Brady stopped mid-sentence as he spotted the closet door carelessly flung open. There were a few of Chloe's garments laying on the floor where they had fallen from her full random armload of clothes. Brady's gaze traveled quickly to Chloe's vanity where he found her standing besides a full packed bag, holding her engagement ring. "What in God's name do you think you are doing?" Brady demanded, more confused than angry.

"Brady," Chloe said in a pained whisper. Of course fate would not allow her to make a quiet getaway. "I was just…"

"You were just what, Chloe?" Brady demanded, advancing on her packed bag. With both hands he ripped the leather bindings of the bag apart to reveal its contents, ignoring his injury which could only be getting worse with such forceful use. "You were just packing up a few things to send to the poor?" Brady asked, his voice thick with cruel sarcasm. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It means… I'm leaving, Brady," Chloe said, trying to keep her voice strong, refusing to let it crack.

"What?" Brady relied, near whisper. He let go of the bag, stepping towards Chloe and trying to calm his sudden flash of fury. He had to have heard her wrong. Surely, this couldn't be. Perhaps he never woke up this morning. Maybe he would wake up now and find himself in his sister's old room. Or maybe, just maybe, he would wake up with his arms wrapped around Chloe to find that their fight had also been nothing but a dream. "Chloe… you couldn't possibly have just said you are leaving me."

"But I did," Chloe stated. Her voice was calm and gave no hint of remorse. But her eyes told a different story. Her eyes showed a truth she could never hide. Truth was, she was broken the moment she made the decision to leave Brady. He had filled a void in her heart with his love and with him gone, there would be no one to fill that void ever again . No one, for the rest of what promised to be a miserable life.

"No. No, you can't leave me." It was a plea of desperation, not a command. Her resolve had showed him she meant it. He was about to lose the only light left in his wretched, dark life. He stood directly in front of her, but not daring to touch her. "I know we have faced some very difficult challenges in the short time we have known each other. But a couple of verbal quarrels is not worth abandoning the life we could live together. I didn't mean to be angry about Cynthia. It's already forgotten. As far as I'm concerned, it never mattered and so it never happened. You can't mean to leave because of a quarrel..."

"It isn't just about the arguments, Brady. Every couple quarrels. That in itself is normal. That isn't our problem," Chloe stated.

"What is our problem, then?" Brady inquired. "I don't understand why you're doing this to me, to us! Is it me? Is it something I did or something I said to make you feel this way?"

"No Brady. It's nothing like that. This is… its just not that simple," Chloe replied.

"Nothing is ever simple!" Brady exclaimed. Simplicity was perhaps the one thing Brady had always desired and could never obtain. The son of a King, Brady was forced to uphold certain responsibilities. And thus his life would never be simple. "Was it something that you are afraid that I will do? Are you still upset over Philip and Mucche and my handling of the situation? Whatever it is, tell me and we can talk it out. I will do everything in my power to make it right. But please, don't leave me. We can work this out together. Please don't leave," Brady pleaded.

"No. We can't," Chloe whispered sadly. "God how I wish it wasn't so. But it is… we just aren't meant to be."

"I don't give a damn about meant to be!" Brady shouted. He grabbed Chloe by the shoulders, firmly but not forcibly. It was then Chloe noticed his injury. And she knew without hesitation that it was her fault. "I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Fate be damned… I don't care about anything but our love. All that matters to me is that we love each other."

"It isn't enough," Chloe replied, shaking free of his grasp. "Love just isn't enough to keep you and I from coming apart. There is so much suffering around us, Brady," Chloe stated placing her ring on the vanity to hold Brady's injured hand. She held it gingerly in her hand, carefully running her other hand down the outline of the makeshift bandage. "I've changed you, Brady. And it's obvious not for the better. If I stay, I will only cause you and your people harm."

"I am useless to my people without you," Brady whispered, fighting to keep himself from allowing the tears which were brimming his eyes from falling. "My people… they adore you. And you could do so much good here for them. They need you. I need you."

"No, you don't. But if I stay… you will get to the point where you really can't lead them without me," Chloe stated. "If something were to happen to me… It would just be best for everyone if I leave now." She released his hand, turning to close her bag again, solemnly picking it up by its leather handles.

"This isn't fair," Brady whispered. "All I have ever wanted was a normal, happy life," Brady continued, his voice shaking with emotion that broke her heart. Brady appeared so lost now, she could see it in his eyes. And her heart wept for him. But she couldn't let her emotions get the better of her.

"No, it isn't fair," Chloe said as she picked up her very heavy bag with her left hand, reaching for the ring with her right. She supported the heavy bag with her hip as she approached him. "But we are not normal people, Brady. And fair or not… it is happening." She reached forward with her right hand, placing the ring in the palm of his uninjured hand. Brady clenched the ring tightly in his hand, finally looking up to meet her gaze. His eyes were glazed with tears of remorse, and her heart broke for him. But there would be no looking back. "Fair or not, it just simply has to be this way." Chloe removed her hand from his clenched fist, stepping back away from him. She switched the bag to her other side now, placing the strap securely over her shoulder.

"I am so sorry, Brady. I will always love you. But we were fooling ourselves to believe we could be together. It is just not meant to be," Chloe stated solemnly. Unable to bear to look on his broken expression any longer, Chloe's gaze fell to the floor as she brushed past him. She walked calmly, silent tears again gracing her cheeks, making her way over to the door and out of Brady's chambers. Out of his chambers… and out of his life forever.

As she began the long, lonely walk down the royal hallway from the love of her life, the full weight of what was happening hit her. Behind her was a man who loved her unconditionally with all his heart. A man who would willingly forfeit his life so that she could live. A man who's heart she had willingly and consciously shattered. She was walking away from the only man she would ever love. But after this, there truly would be no turning back. Her tears began to flood freely in a river of sorrow down her flushed cheeks. Soon, despite the heavy bag on her shoulder, she was practically racing down the hallway. She took no notice of Harold, who had emerged from his room to see what the commotion was about.

"Chloe, what is wrong?" Harold asked worriedly. Chloe ignored him, shaking her head as she continued to race past him and out of sight. "What the devil is going on here?" Harold asked aloud. He quickly closed the door to his room, hurrying down the hall where Brady's chamber's door was still open. "Your Majesty?" Harold inquired, hesitantly peeking inside Brady's room. Inside, Brady was standing in front of Chloe's vanity, laying the ring down to pick up the pink glass figurine which he had given to Chloe the first day she came to the Palace. Harold watched silently as Brady surveyed the object, lost in deep thought in a place where only his memories existed.

"_What's that?" Arciana asked, stepping forward to reach out for the glass object. Brady was about to call for her not to touch it, when something gave him the feeling he should allow her to do so. Arciana was, for some unknown reason, drawn to that particular object._

"_My mother made it. She could never find anything of glass in such a color that felt like it wanted to be in the Palace, so she learned to sculpt her own."_

"_Felt?"_ _Arciana questioned, holding the butterfly delicately, lovingly in her two hands. Brady nodded._

"_Yes, felt. My mother had a very unique view on life. She believed that every person and every thing would tell you where it wanted to be. Everything here in this room wants to be here, or so my father told me my mother believed."_

"_You don't remember her?" Brady paused; he was sharing so much with her! After his precious Belle's death, Brady closed himself off completely to the outside world. Only his few dearest friends- Shawn, Jason, Hawk, and now Harold- knew the real Brady Black. But he would not speak any of his lost parents and sister, even to them. But... she was different somehow, someone he believed he could trust, believe in. True, the chance that she would shatter what was left of his soul was very high, but she was perhaps his last chance at feeling complete again. Brady wanted only her, felt it was his destiny to meet her._

"_No, I don't. I was too young when she... passed away. Marlena, Isabella's mother, married my father after that, so the only motherly memories I have are of her. But, father told me many stories of her and their time together, to keep her memory alive," Brady answered, stepping up beside her. Ever so gently, Brady took the glass object from Arciana. "This, was part of my favorite story. You see, my mother was very proud of this butterfly, having made it perfectly on the first try with her own two hands. Mother loved it so much, in fact, Father claimed her spirit stayed inside it so she could keep her favorite possession and keep watch over her family all at the same time. I never believed that, until one day... the day that Isabella was killed, I came back here, completely crazed. I damaged a lot of items in the Palace in my fit of rage, to tell the truth. And then, I picked this up, and hurled it with all my might against the wall over there. And yet, it did not break, didn't even so much as chip. No other object, glass, wood, stone, or otherwise, could have survived that in one piece. That was when I was convinced my mother's spirit really was watching over me from her favorite glass butterfly," Brady stated. Arciana watched him closely, so unsure if she should allow him to continue. He had told her so much, and she knew in her heart she wanted to know everything about the poor, tortured man, so like herself. But, she also knew, in the morning, she would leave, adding another painful heartbreak to Brady's long list of sorrowful lose. Before she could protest, Brady pushed the butterfly back into her hands. "Here, you take it."_

"_What..."_

"_You were drawn to it, and it to you. It wants to be with you now," Brady interrupted. Arciana shook her head in protest, trying to push the object back into his hands. Seeing her turn away his heartfelt gift nearly split him in two. "Please? Mother would want you to have it_

"_Why are you doing all this?" Arciana whispered._

"Not meant to be…" Brady whispered, not aware of Harold's presence. With lightning quick reflexes, Brady drew the precious figurine back, gripping it with his uninjured hand and hurling it with inhuman force across the room. The fragile object slammed against the headboard of their bed. This time, the glass was not miraculously spared. Isabella's precious glass figurine shattered into a million tiny, sparkly pieces. As they scattered carelessly over the unmade bed, the light which seemed to shine so brightly within their pieces dissipated, leaving Brady's bed covered in millions of dull, meaningless shards of glass.

Brady collapsed then, falling to the cold floor in a fit of painful sobs and screams as the true meaning of his mother's glass shattering finalized the loss of Brady's last remaining shred of hope. Brady's final chance at happiness disappeared the moment Chloe walked out that door and out of his life. He'd been through so much… but she was different. She left him willing, and they would have no second chance this time. Chloe was gone… and so he was nothing, not even a shell of the once grand, caring Brady Black…….


	15. Chapter 12

_**Chapter 12**_

A/N: This chapter marks the point where, after ages upon ages of inactivity on the writing front, I randomly picked up a pen one day and started to write again. When reading this, there may be some continuity problems, etc. Just keep in mind, I wrote this after months of not writing while I was supposed to be listening to lectures on Communication in the Business World and Elasticity and all that good college stuff. So I may have wondered off track a bit. I wasn't too happy with the way this turned out, and will likely do a lot of rewriting while I type it. But, the point is, it's done, it's a new chapter, and it means I might actually finish the story after all. So, forgive me if it's no good, but at least it's an update. Also, a side note... fans of the hit WB television series _Angel_ will recognize a name used in the final scene of this chapter. The use of this character has no significance whatsoever. I'm just running out of names, and wanted to connect a face to a name while I wrote this. I was thinking about using Curtis Reed, just to keep it Days only, but I was but a wee child when Curtis was on the show, so I didn't feel right using a character I can't remember. But then again, not really important, just wanted to point that out. If you're an _Angel_ fan, you'll be able to connect a name to a face. If not, no big. Enjoy.

Chloe ran blindly through the throng of men and women milling about the Market Place, pushing through startled shoppers without realizing or caring that they were even there. All eyes were on her, fleeing in a fit of uncontrollable tears. But she didn't care who saw her, or what they thought of her. All she knew was that she had to get away. She had to get away now, as fast as her legs could possibly carry her.

Two specific groups of people spotted Chloe's retreat and took note of it. The first was Brandon and his mother Faye. They had been on there way to retrieve Nicole from yet another lockup. Though Nicole's fine for her involvement with the Mendez slave drivers had been paid, thanks to Lady Cynthia, Nicole had once again found herself in the jailhouse after getting drunk at a local tavern and fighting with a Royal Guard on leave. It had taken Brandon and Faye a few days to gather up the money they would need to once again release their troublesome family member from jail, though they both wondered if it was best for all if they allowed Nicole to stay in jail where she might learn a lesson about her uncontrollable behavior. Faye and Brandon talked quietly amongst themselves now as they watched Chloe, questioning what would make the poor slave-child-turned-Queen-to-Be flee in such a manner. They wondered whether they should pursue her, but decided against it. Though they had been the ones to set her free once Lord Paul was dead, their presence still might not be appreciated, especially in her current state. So they held back, both saying a silent prayer that everything would turn out alright for the tortured young girl.

The second to note Chloe's departure was Lord Hawk and his "friends" from the local brothel. The three girls with him laughed and jeered at the scene Chloe caused, as they were genuinely cruel with a love for gossip and trouble. Hawk pushed them away at that, chiding their foolish behavior. He began after Chloe without a moment's hesitation, ignoring the loud and crude calls of the enraged brothel girls. Yet fast as he was, he knew he would have trouble keeping up with his best friend's fiancé, even given her disoriented state and heavy bag in tow.

Chloe raced on, unaware of Hawk's pursuit, or of where she was even going. She ran not too somewhere, but away from the pain which she had caused. She could feel the dark sting of what she had done biting at her heels like a rabid hunger-starved animal chasing after its first meal in ages. To take the time to mentally process where she was would mean she would fall prey to that hungry animal. So she let her instincts carry her, having nothing else to rely on. Before she knew it, she was completely out of the village and on a path she would later realize was all too familiar. After all, she had made the journey a thousand times in her mind since Brady had brought her there before he even knew her real name. Before she had time to think about it and force herself to turn away, she was bursting through the opening in the thick bushes surrounding the familiar place. Her feet clanked loudly over the wooden bridge over the small stream as she ran, but her ears didn't register either that sound or the serene sound of the running water. She didn't stop running until she burst through the door to Brady's cabin, without realizing there was even a door to go through. She fell hard onto the floor now, face first, with a loud, painful cry. Not pain from the fall, though the floor was cold and hard. But instead from the pain and anguish of her terrible departure from the man she wanted with all her heart and soul to spend her life with.

Chloe pushed her bag away from her in anguish, remaining on the cold floor to cry tears she thought her body could not possibly still be able to produce. Her sobs came in painful bursts, gasping for breath in between the tears. Her chest and lungs were practically on fire, and she felt she might slip into unconsciousness soon. But she couldn't stop her flood of tears.

"Oh God. What have I done?" Chloe sobbed aloud to herself. She forced herself onto her side, arm outstretched over her hand. She had to calm herself. Had to breathe. Where was she? She lay on that floor for only a few moments, but each moment seemed like a hundred years. When she had a handle on herself, forcing those retched tears to cease, she tried to stand. Her knee hurt, and upon further examination, she would have seen that she'd received a small gash across her knew due to the force of her fall as dark blood was beginning to stain her dress. Her body hurt all over, but she had to stand. She had to see where she was.

"Oh God. Not here. Not here," Chloe moaned quietly when she finally got to her feet and recognized her surroundings. Brady's cabin. How had she wound up here? She didn't deserve to be here! She couldn't possibly be here. Had she run so hard, so fast, she made such a long trip on foot before realizing she had even left the village? "Why? Why here?" Chloe whispered, resisting the tears which threatened to fall once more. This place was so special to Brady, and he had made it special for her. Even when he had not known who she was, he had loved her so much that he shared his most sacred of places with her. Chloe stepped hesitantly further into the living room of the cabin, ignoring the pain in her limbs.

_"You built all this?" Arciana asked in awe._

_"Yes, I've been working on it off and on since I was a boy. Most of the furniture that's here though, I bought. Not all the rooms are furnished yet, and the ones that are don't have a whole lot. Yet at least," Brady called, lighting the candles in the two rooms on the right and descending the stairs once more. He'd made his way to the left side, where another staircase stood before Arciana spoke again._

_"Why did you build it? I mean, you do have an entire castle to live in," Arciana pointed out. Brady quickly lit all the candles in the rooms on the left and made his way back downstairs to stand at her side again before ever answering._

_"Well, that's what I'm about to tell you. Come on inside, into the living room." Brady said, reaching out for her hand again and leading her into the living room. He did not, however, offer her a seat, since he would soon be taking her down the hallway. "You see, a long time ago, I had this dream. Well, it was more of a long-term fantasy of mine, of how I wanted my life to be. It was stupid, just a childish fantasy, but I suppose all children have dreams about their future."_

_"What was your dream?" Arciana asked. Of course all children had dreams. Had she not dreamt and fantasized a million different times that her life would take her far, far away from the horrid life she was living as a slave under Lord Paul? Brady hesitated, suddenly unsure he should continue. What would she think of him after he told her about the one dream that ever meant anything to him? It was childish of him to ever have believed it would one day come true. He shouldn't even be thinking of it now, let alone telling anyone about it! "Brady? Is something the matter?" God above, could she already see right through him, after knowing him such a short time?_

_"No, no. It's just... it's so stupid. You wouldn't be interested..." Arciana was very confused. Never once had Brady ever tried to push her away. It was she that was always pushing him away. It made no sense that he would shut down now, after all he'd shared with her already._

_"Brady..." Arciana started, taking both of his hands in hers. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I want you to know... you can tell me anything." Brady couldn't help notice her own hesitation to say that to him. She always seemed hesitant to say and do anything that might indicate she wanted to get to know him better, or wanted him to get to know her. Brady smiled broadly at her; though she was hesitant, at least the fact that she did care was a good sign._

_"Alright, I'll tell you. But if I bore you to sleep, it's not my fault." Brady stated, causing Arciana to smile as well._

_"Like I said before, you are never in any way boring, Brady Black." Brady let go of one of her hands, leading her around the room in a circle as he began to talk._

_"Well, you see... I had this dream, for a very long time, long before I can even remember. But it never seemed like it could ever become true, until I found this place," Brady started. "Most children would probably be relishing in being the son of a great King. But not me. I used to picture my entire life just perfectly in my head, and it went just like this. One day, a beautiful day which I would start by watching the sun rise, an old woman would approach the castle with a young boy, exactly the same age as me. That woman would let it be known that I was not the son of John and Isabella Black, but that I had been switched at birth with the boy she'd raised as her own. I know it seems a stretch, but though I loved my family, I could never be happy there. In my dream, my father would oppose at first, but then would finally be persuaded to take the young boy in as his real son, and give me to the old woman to raise. I knew of course my father would never abandon me unless the old woman had used some kind of witchcraft on my father, so I would run away from her the moment we got out of palace. All boys of such a young age believe that they need no one else to take care of them; I was the same. I believed that I could run away to my secret place, where no one would ever find me, and build a home for myself, and the family I wished to have one day." It was then that Brady paused, beginning to lead Arciana down the hallway, now lit by many candles. _

_"Even then, I knew how I wanted my home to look when it was finished, and knew exactly what each room would be used for. I would begin building on it, knowing that Isabella would still visit me to help even though I was not her true brother. Of course, back then, I believed that a house would be simple to build, and would not take long. I used to imagine, that once I had the house finished, I'd begin to farm. The land, both inside and around the clearing was so fertile, I believed that even I, someone who knew nothing about farming, could be the best farmer around. I wanted a simple life, nothing more. I had it planned, that I would farm the land, keeping some to eat, and selling the rest in the Market Place. Everything I made, I was going to keep back to buy supplies in winter, and new furniture and things of that nature. But I also had other reasons. You see, I really did have my entire life planned, even my romantic life."_

"_During the first few years, I wanted to keep to my self. Never really getting close to anyone, just waiting for that one person that I would know in an instant was the one I wanted to share my life with. In my dream, I went so far as to picture how it would go exactly. One day, I would be taking my crops to the market to sell. Instead of going my usual way through the back alleys to get to the store I needed to get to, I would go right through the center of the market on my way to sell my crops. It would be there that I would meet her, the woman I was destined to be with all my life. I would just look up at the right moment and catch sight of her, standing in front of a food stand with her basket on her wrist. She would look up then at that moment as well. And the moment we locked eyes, we'd fall instantly in love. We'd know in an instant that we'd spent our whole lives looking for each other. I'd drop the wheel barrow I was using to push my crops and approach her. I'd reach out my hand to her, and she to me, and the moment our hands locked together, we both would finally feel complete." Brady explained, with a passion in his voice unlike anything Arciana had ever heard._

_"We'd marry that spring, and move into this house. Our house. I had everything planned out just perfectly. I'd continue to farm the surrounding lands, and she would have a small seamstress shop in the market place. I even planned on how many children we would have," Brady stated, opening the last door on the left. "This would be our first born's room, a boy. He would stay in our room at first of course, until he was old enough to move into his room. We'd name him John, after the only father I'd ever known." All the while Brady was speaking, Arciana was observing the room. It wasn't furnished yet, except for a writing desk. She could also see that there was another door on the right side of the room that no doubt led to a bathroom. Brady left the door open, but turned around to face the left side of the hallway, where there were 3 doors. "After John, we would have twins, both girls," Brady explained, opening the last door on the right. "This would be one of their rooms. The other would be the first room on the right of the hall. They're connected by the room in the middle, a bathroom. Their names would be Isabella, after the only mother and sister I'd ever known, and Blossom."_

_"Why Blossom?" Arciana asked quietly. She was slowly taking in all his words; she ached inside at the thought that Brady had yet to find that perfect dream of his._

_"It reminds me of someone I knew once," Brady answered, leading her back down the hall. He opened both the bathroom door and the other bedroom, the one he always imagined would be Isabella's room, for Arciana to look into. It was just as the last room had been; each bedroom only had a writing desk and a door which led to a bathroom, but the girls' rooms also had another door, which led to closets. "The other room on the left is just a study. Nothing in there at all. Really the only furnished rooms are the living room, dining room, guest bedroom, and my room. I've been too busy working on the plumbing... I honestly have no idea how those inventors of mine managed to fix up the entire castle with running water." Brady stated._

_"What are the other rooms?" Arciana asked, taking a look inside the study. Indeed, it was completely bare. Still holding her hand, Brady lead Arciana across the living room to the door on the left side of the front door._

_"This is the den," Brady explained, opening the door. Arciana found it to be the only carpeted room in the house, but also, it was the lowest room; there was a single, carpeted step at the entrance. "I want to build a fire place in here sometime, but I suppose that will wait. It never gets all that cold in Nero anyway," Brady stated, leaving the door open and crossing over to the center of the living room. Arciana followed, her eyes moving to the top floor on the left side as Brady pointed to it. "That up there, would have been the playroom, for when the kids get older. The room to the side is a guest bedroom, just in case." Brady stated. "Of course, you saw the dining room, which is connected to the kitchen. And that there is the guest bathroom." Brady said, pointing to a door near the end of the dining room, where it connected with the kitchen._

_"Where's your room?" Arciana asked. Brady took her hand again, leading her up the stairs to the right of the door._

_"Up here," Brady answered. The balcony they reached was bare, but Arciana could tell it was not where he meant his room to be. There were two doors, one to the left that led to a bathroom, and one right in front of them. Brady led her to that door, opening it to reveal his room. It was the biggest room in the house and fully furnished, and yet remained simple. There was a large bed in the center of the room against the right wall, in-between two windows. There was of course a writing desk and chair, another more comfortable looking leather chair near the window, and a vanity. Again Arciana's heart ached; Brady had placed it there for his dream woman who never came. There was a night stand by the head of the bed, on the far right side. There were also two doors, one near the front of the room on the left side and the other nearer to the middle of the room. Brady continued on, towards the farthest door, and opened it, to reveal a balcony she had not noticed from the outside. A white rail surrounded it, keeping any who wandered onto the balcony safe from falling off. Brady released her hand, and walked out to the edge of the balcony, leaning against the rail to look out at the stars. The moon was full that night, and not a cloud in the sky to disrupt the view. A wooden bench had been placed against the wall, just big enough for two people._

_"We would have all grown old here together, continuing our simple life. I'd always pictured my children, raising their own families here, in the safety of their parents clearing. But..." Brady sadly looked down from the heavens to stare at the dark ground, his elbows on the railing and hands clasp out in front of him. "It was not meant to be," Brady finished._

Brady's excited words as he shared the fantasies he had built for himself suddenly came flooding back to her now. He had bared his soul to her, a mere stranger. And she had wished so dearly that she could be as open with him as he was with her, and be the great love that made all those dreams he wished for for so many years come true.

Chloe ran her hand delicately over the hand-carved railing of the stairs as she ascended the stairs to the loft bedroom she had once shared with Brady. She approached the bed, closing her eyes. In her mind's eye, she saw herself clear as day, sitting in the window, bathed in moonlight, sketching Brady as he slept soundly in the bed. She inhaled deeply and could remember the scent of Brady's hair as she crawled back into bed beside him. She opened her eyes once she had reached the window seal. She sat in her previous place, looking at the bed as she had that night, which seemed an eternity ago. But this time, the bed was empty. And there would never be anyone in it again as far as she would be able to see.

Chloe glanced down to the floor, catching sight of a fallen piece of paper. She stood to retrieve it, feeling a twinge of sadness by what she saw. The piece of paper was in fact her drawing. She didn't remember what became of it once she was finished. She probably had laid it down beside the bed, or in the window seal itself, before falling asleep. The wind from the open window probably had blown it off and under the bed. When Brady had made the bed after the second night, he must have caused the slip of parchment to be moved just within sight from the window. It was as perfect as the day she had drawn it. Not a smear nor rip had become of the sketch. Yet it filled her heart with sadness, knowing she'd never see that handsome face again. She'd never again see the kind of true kindness and innocense he displayed as he slept, unaware that he was being watched. And she had only herself to blame for that. Now that it was said and done, now that she had left the Palace, she couldn't remember why it was that she had even come to this terrible moment. She thought it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. Now, the only thought in her mind was that she had been so very wrong.

Chloe pulled back the covers slightly on Brady's side of the bed, tucking the sketch just underneath the covers so it rested in sight over the pillow. One tear streamed down her cheek, splashing the parchment. She shook her head and backed away as quickly as possible, retreating for the stairs. She felt numb as she quickly descended the stairs, needing to flee from the painful memories. Memories that should have been treasured were now cursed, thanks to her own foolish actions. Chloe hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, noticing something she had failed to see before. A full length mirror had been placed on the wall opposite the stairs, allowing her to see herself as she descended the staircase. She approached the mirror, noting her horrid appearance. Her hair was disheveled, her face was red, tear-stained, and dirty. Her eyes were baron and broken, her lips sunk in a deep frown. The gash on her knee, though no longer bleeding, had left a dark stain on her dress that would likely not come out, and she'd torn the material in a few places when she had fallen. Never in her life had she felt and looked so miserable. Even when Lord Paul would beat her, she still had some since of dignity in knowing that she had fought against him and wasn't responsible for her horrid fate. But now she didn't have that. She'd torn apart all that was good and pure in her life, and walked away from the only person who had ever loved her. There was no one to blame but herself now, and that just made her sick inside.

"What have I done?" Chloe whispered, placing her hand on the mirror. The moment she touched the glass, a wave of cold rushed through her. The mirror seemed to literally freeze over, and in this frozen surface, Chloe saw herself placing her wedding ring back into Brady's hand as she said her tearful goodbye. The displayed memory faded to black, and images from her many dreams began to flash wildly in the frozen surface. Bloodstained battles fields. Burning buildings. Destroyed homes. To Chloe's horror, she could hear the screams of the dying, pounding in her ears. The final image was of the two graves from her nightmare. Philip and Brady's graves. Then the ice over the mirror shattered. Chloe screamed, willing her eyes to close to drown out the terror. But they would not obey. She was frozen in fear.

When the ice fragments, which had only been figments of her imagination and could not physically harm her, cleared, she was left standing in front of the normal mirror again, with a normal reflection. But it was not her reflection standing before her. Instead of Chloe's reflection, the full reflection of Queen Isabella Black of Nero stood tall before her, seeming as real as any living person. Except, of course, the former Queen, the mother Brady couldn't truly remember, had not been alive for many, many years. Through she'd only seem a portrait of Isabella, and that had only been once, Chloe knew instantly who she was seeing.

"Chloe." Chloe knew that voice. She had been just an infant when Brady's mother had died, and had therefore obviously never met the woman, but she knew that was the fallen Queen's voice. "Chloe. You must listen. You do not understand. Please, listen. Brady's life depends on it." Isabella's reflection flickered, her voice changing in volume as she spoke, as though she was having trouble remaining in the world of the living, a world she'd left ages ago, so that Chloe could see her. She appeared to stretch her hand out to Chloe. But Chloe recoiled in terror, horrified by what could only be a ghost come to punish her for her sins.

"No!" Chloe screamed, pulling away.

"Please. It does not have to be. You can change it," Isabella pleaded, weaker. It was though she were being drained, drowned out by some malevolent force that wished her not to reach out to the troubled young woman. But whatever message the spirit of Brady's mother was trying to deliver would go unheard. Isabella's reflection faded before she could continue her desperate plea. What replaced the serene image of Brady's mother made Chloe's stomach turn. The disgusting, distorted image of Lord Paul now loomed before her, grinning maliciously at his former slave. He was dressed in warrior's garb, the clothing he died and was buried in, with a gaping hole in the middle of his chest where he had been run through by an enemy blade.

"No you can't," Lord Paul sneered, dark, long-dead blood oozing from his horribly distorted mouth. Chloe could literally smell his putrid breath as the foul words filled her ears like deafening blows to her already shocked brain. "You could never do anything right. You were only good for one thing," Lord Paul stated. He turned his head to the side, which made a loud 'crack' as his bones, brittled and long dead, popped beneath rotted flesh that hung off his bones so unnaturally. "But then, you were never really any good at that either, were you now, little girl?" Paul added with an evil grin. Just as the angelic vision of Isabella had done, the devilish vision of Lord Paul reached out his hand as though to reach out to her. But where Isabella's intent had only been good and pure, this decaying, rotted figure intended only to harm.

"Leave me alone!" Chloe cried, somehow managing to choke down all her old worst fears and turn away from the putrid, painful image. She turned on her heels, beginning to run as fast as she could manage to get away from Lord Paul's grasp from beyond the grave. She didn't care where she turned, as long as it was away from him.

"You can't run!" Lord Paul boomed after her. "You can't stop it! As long as you are breathing, Nero is damned. As long as you live!" Chloe tried to drown out the hateful words as she burst through the kitchen door which lead to the back of the house. But that voice which had haunted her every waking moment for the last 13 years would not go ignored.

In her panic, Chloe could not see the potential dangers which lay ahead of her. As she neared the bank of the small stream as it widened at the base of the small waterfall, the ground become slippery and slightly uneven. One of the larger rocks which happened to be jutting out from the slippery ground caught as slight tear on the bottom of Chloe's unfortunately long dress. Chloe, caught off guard by the sudden abrupt interruption to her retreat, yelled out as she lost her balance and fell forward. She fell head first into the water at the very base of the waterfall where it was deepest. But that water, which was over her head by only just a bit, was still relatively shallow, even at it's deepest. And so it was inevitable that, considering the speed at which she had fallen, Chloe would hit her head on the rocky bottom of the stream.

Blood instantly drew as the sharp edges of the rocks met with Chloe's skull, but despite the pain and the shock of the fall, Chloe remained conscious. The force of the water rushing down on her from the waterfall was just enough to keep Chloe from floating naturally back up to the safety of the surface. But she could easily swim against it and pull herself out the water. If she had the will to do so, at least.

Chloe managed to turn her head so she could see the sky, albeit very unclearly. The blood from her wounds made the water around her muggy, making the sky appear to bleed. This wasn't her intention, but she didn't have the will to fight against the current to save her own life. As long as she was alive, there would always be blood in the sky waiting to rain down upon Nero and destroy everything it touched. As long as she was alive. So perhaps it was best if she allowed fate to take it's course, and do with her what it wanted. She was dead without Brady. And now that she had ruined everything, she could not have him, nor could she ever deserve him. If she had to die then to bring them all peace, why not in the first place she had ever felt true joy and content?

Chloe turned her head again so it faced downward like the rest of her body. Her arms began to float freely out to her sides. She closed her eyes, giving in to destiny and willing herself to the water that would bring her peace at last. The pain in her head began to intensify as her lungs, depleted of life-giving air began to burn within her chest. But still she would not fight. As she began to slip into unconsciousness, she didn't hear the loud splash of someone jumping into the stream after her. The last thing she remembered before she surrendered to the darkness of sleep was the feeling of strong arms around her and the vision of her beloved Brady's face smiling at her from above...

Back at the Palace, Brady was in hysterics. After smashing the glass figure which he once believed to be a miraculous symbol of his mother's love watching over him, Brady went on to smash other things.

"Your Majesty, please!" Harold begged as Brady used his injured hand to smash Chloe's vanity mirror. "You must stop this nonsense! Please! You'll hurt yourself!"

"There is nothing left of me to hurt," Brady growled, taking his rage out upon whatever close. He threw everything off the vanity onto the ground in one swift motion. "She has made sure of that."

"Your Majesty, please listen to reason!"

"Reason walked out that door when she left me!" Brady shouted, picking up the vanity chair and hurling it across the room. It broke into dozens of little pieces just as Shawn, drawn by the commotion Brady was causing, burst into the Royal Chambers.

"What in God's name is going on here?" Shawn demanded. Though Brady had had a few bouts of anger as of late, he was usually a very nonviolent, rational person. Except of course when the time came he had no choice but to protect his home and loves ones. To see him, a very mature beyond his age, prideful, respectable young man, so extremely and immaturely angry and violent was almost unthinkable. And yet, here he was, and he didn't have it in him to care just how insane and ignorant he appeared.

"She is gone, Shawn. You have your wish. She has left me," Brady replied, pausing in his destruction. As reality began to sink it's way into Brady's clouded mind, the sudden violent burst of rage began to give way to mind-numbing remorse. "Oh God... she's left me," Brady said so quietly now that Shawn could just barely hear him. Brady slumped down to the ground now, feeling ever so lost. What was he to do now?

"Who?" Shawn demanded.

"Chloe," Brady responded. His hand came to rest on the engagement ring Chloe had returned to him. He had dropped it during his fit of rage. But now with nothing else to throw, he picked up the engagement ring, bringing it level with his face. "Chloe has left me. She gave this back. Said we can't wed. And then she just... left."

"Dear God," Shawn whispered, taken aback by Brady's declaration of Chloe's sudden departure. "Brady... I don't... know what to... I know how deeply you loved her. I am so sorry."

"Are you?" Brady responded, snapping his head up to glare at Shawn. He placed the ring safely in his pocket, focusing all attention on the man he'd once thought of as his best and most trusted friend. "Are you sure that this is not exactly what you wanted? After all, you were saying just this morning that I've been focusing too exclusively on my marriage to Chloe. Does her departure not serve your purpose just perfectly?"

"Brady, I never wanted this. I didn't want it to be this way! I had no idea that Chloe would leave. She so obviously returned your love. I don't understand it, but I assure you, this was not what I wanted for you. I wanted you to be happy!" Shawn insisted.

"Happy?" Brady repeated, as though the word were so foreign to him he had long since forgot it's true meaning. He forced himself to his feet now, standing tall before Shawn. "Without her in my life, I do not know the meaning of that word. Maybe... maybe I never really did to begin with," Brady responded. And Shawn's heart broke from the pure sadness within Brady just at that moment. "I'm through, Shawn. This is it for me. I am so tired. I thought... I truly believed she could end the loneliness in me. I love her so much, Shawn. I spent my whole life waiting for her! I wanted only to be with her, and never be lonely again. I thought we'd be together forever. I felt... so connected to her. But I was wrong. She is just like all the others," Brady stated brokenly. "No," Brady rethought, shaking his head. "No. She is worse than that. So very much worse. She made the choice... to leave me," Brady added, voice breaking.

His mother had been poisoned when he was just a child, and so it had not been her choice to leave him behind at such a young, vulnerable age. Marlena, his step mother, had died in the fire set for his father, so she too had been given no choice. And Isabella... his sweet, dear baby sister Belle... she too had left him by no choice of her own. Her only crime was that she loved all things too dearly, and she had wanted so badly for peace to be achieved between the two feuding countries. She would still be at his side were the choice hers. Even John had left Brady behind involuntarily, falling prey to enemy hands. Only one person had the ability to break Brady's heart in such a manner. And that person was Chloe Kiriakis. Death, Brady could handle. But for someone of whom he had pledged his heart and soul to just up and abandon him? That was truly unbearable for a man so broken by loss.

"Surely she did not mean it, Your Majesty," Harold timidly suggested, moved practically to tears by Brady's words. "She is just overwhelmed, Sire. She's not used to all this commotion and attention. You must remember, Chloe has had such a hard life as well. To be born into such a hateful family, then to be brought up by the cruelest of slavery and abuse. And now, her own twin brother has shunned her rather then rejoice at her return simply because of the man she could not help but fall in love with. It is all so much. Add in a marriage to the man her family has sworn vengeance upon, and it is just far to much for one single person to take in. She's just scared. Surely, if you went after her..."

"No," Brady interrupted firmly. "No, Harold. Not this time. I ran after her once before and I failed to reach her. The choice may not have been hers then, but it is now. She won't find her way back to me this time. She doesn't want to. If she truly loved me, then she would have known that I couldn't bare her leaving. Not matter what reasons she had... fear, confusion, or something else entirely, it doesn't matter now. All that matters is that Chloe is no longer with me... and she made that choice all on her own." Brady turned now, a certain determination in his suddenly stone-like face.

"Brady, what are you doing? Where are you going?" Shawn questioned. But Brady paid him no attention. He had only one purpose, and it had to be fulfilled right away. He burst through the curtain to the balcony that over-looked the town square where he would gather his people for public announcements. The square was abuzz with activity, what with the royal wedding coming up and all, that would soon be followed by grand celebrations and feasts. Not as many people were present as was normal for announcements since, unless during times of emergency, Harold and the Royal Council arranged public announcements ahead of time to spread the word to all the citizens of Nero. But enough people were present as far as Brady was concerned. His words, he already knew, would spread like wild fire, reaching every single citizen of Nero, and burning them to the core.

"My fellow Neroeans," Brady began in a strong, billowing voice, raising his hands up high to grab the attention of the people down below. "I have an announcement I wish to make."

"It's our King!" Came many excited whispers amongst the crowd.

"He wishes to speak to us! Quiet now so we can hear!" Came yet more comments from the gathering crowd, who obediently stopped what they were doing and turned their full attention to their beloved King. Harold and Shawn came out from the chambers, worried and intense looks upon both of their faces.

"Brady, don't do this," Shawn insisted quietly.

"Please listen to him, Your Majesty!" Harold pleaded. But Brady shook them both off, stepping closer to the edge of the balcony, and further from his friends. He lowered his arms to his side, becoming rigid, almost lifeless. His piercing blue eyes seemed hollow as he stared out at this people. He surveyed them, a whole, huge throng of people he no longer had it in him to care for as he was sworn by his birth right, with cold intensity. And yet he did not see a single one of them. They were like faceless statues to him now. Meaningless and cold.

"My fellow men," Brady began without emotion, "I have a grave situation of which I must inform you." He paused, gasps and hushed concerns starting among the crowd below him. Women clutched tighter to their children's hands, fearing the worse. For their King to approach them in such an abrupt and urgent manner could only mean disaster.

"It is with a heavy heart that I inform you all, my people," Brady continued after a moments pause, "that my bride to be, your future Queen, Chloe Kiriakis... has chosen not to be my bride. She has rejected me, deciding instead to leave me, and the people of Nero, far behind." The crowd grew much louder now, practically booming with outcries. Some citizens grew angry at Chloe's abandonment of them when they had been so welcoming of her, a Kiriakis foreigner. Others grew frightened at what their once future Queen's departure would mean for them. And rightly so. Brady ignored the inquiries from the frightened mob below, continuing in a cold and unfeeling voice. "And as she is gone from my life... so shall I be gone from yours." Brady turned his back on the crowd now, pushing passed a stunned Shawn and Harold to disappear back into his chambers.

And the crowd below went ballistic. Everyone, man, woman, and child alike began to yell, demanding answers that would go unwarranted. Babies began to cry, and fathers and husbands began to shout at the top of their lungs, demanding that their King return to restore order. But Brady did not hear them, and did not care to, as he walked out of his chambers. He ripped the royal seal of Nero from his clothes, throwing it down on the ground before disappearing from Harold and Shawn's sight. Harold, not sure exactly what to do, which was unusual given that he usually handled crises well, stepped forward, raising his hands to call attention on him.

"Everyone, please! You must all remain calm! The Royal Council..."

"To hell with your council!" One particularly outspoken man shouted. "We want our King! Where is he? Show him to us! We want answers only from him!"

"Yeah!" Other citizens began to agree. "Show us our King! We deserve to hear from him! Show him!" The crowd began to join in with the demands, picking up many objects such as food and throwing them up towards the balcony, calling attention to those who had not been close enough to hear Brady's declaration. The Royal Guards, who were usually posted about the castle on the market's side during announcements, but were previously at there normals posts in and around the Palace since no planned activities were due for that particular time, now finally began to file out and take control of the riotous crowd. Shawn and Harold stood helplessly on the balcony, so unsure of what to do. They certainly could not consol the crowd. Harold was merely the King's Royal Advisor, and held no real power or influence with the masses. And Shawn, though an ally, was a foreign King, and not one of their own. Only Brady could console and calm his subjects now, and he hadn't the will or care to do so.

While the riots and violence raged on in the town square, quickly spreading to parts of the city unaware of Chloe's disappearance and Brady's abandonment of his Kingdom, a single figure slipped through the crowd to retrieve his horse. A well respected member of the rebellion, this man had stayed in Nero at Cynthia's request to keep an eye on royal affairs. He knew Cynthia had gone to Mucche to strengthen the rebellion's allies, and weaken its enemies. And he knew that King Philip would pay well for the knowledge that not only was King Brady's rule unstable, but his twin sister had left Nero and was now on her own, or at least he assumed. If he rode fast and hard, he could be in Mucche before Princess Chloe, most likely on foot, had the chance to get too far out of Nero. He mounted his horse and started off, darting hastily and skillfully between the fighting citizens of Nero. And as he galloped off, he could already taste that hefty bounty that awaited him...

An hour later, back in the cabin, Hawk had Chloe in dry clothes, wrapped in a dry blanket, her feet soaking in warm water, and the injuries to her head and knee bandaged. Chloe hadn't spoken a single word since Hawk had pulled her out of the stream and helped her to start breathing again. She sat wordlessly as Hawk had worriedly bandaged her injuries. She didn't even blink when Hawk had stripped her of her soaking wet clothing and dressed her in clothes he had found in her bag, hoping to keep her emotionally and physically shocked body from catching a chill. She hadn't moved an inch since Hawk sat her down in this spot in the living room. And despite his best efforts, Hawk just couldn't take the silence a moment longer.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Hawk demanded finally, much more harshly than he'd previously intended. He was kneeling at Chloe's feet looking up at her, and finally when she heard him speak, she looked down to meet his eyes.

"I wasn't," Chloe responded quietly.

"Well that seemed pretty damn obvious," Hawk said. "But what I meant was... what were you doing fleeing from the Palace like a bat out of hell itself? Most people run toward the luxurious of Palace life, not away. You're running the wrong way, darling. What in the hell are you doing way out here, nearly getting yourself killed?"

"I didn't mean to," Chloe whispered quietly.

"I know you didn't, darling. I know. You don't pack a bag if your plan is to take your own life. I know you didn't do this on purpose. So the real question is... what are you running from that was so terribly frightening, you couldn't save yourself?" His insight and tenderness surprised her. Well, at least, it would have if she were capable of noticing and comprehending the thought. This man before her was so unlike the crude man she'd met in the Market Place who had treated her like a slave and a whore so that Brady could appear the hero. This was a side of Hawk few people knew existed, but of course, she was too shocked, body and soul, to really comprehend that.

"I had to get away. I couldn't marry him, no matter how badly I want to. I couldn't do it. It would ruin everything," Chloe gushed, all in one breath.

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You're leaving big chunks of detail out of this story, honey. And I'm pretty slow on the draw under normal circumstances. We're talking about Brady, yes?" Hawk asked.

"Yes."

"So if I follow... you're saying you're not going to marry Brady," Hawk stated.

"I can't marry him," Chloe corrected.

"Well why the hell not?" Hawk snapped unintentionally. Chloe flinched slightly at his raised voice, and Hawk cursed his impatience. He forced his features to soften, speaking slower, quieter, and calmer. "Let me rephrase that. I think I see the problem here. This is perfectly normal. I know this may come as a shock, but I have been in a few almost-wedding moments myself. Dodged many an arrow, actually. Granted, I was normally very drunk during the proposal... but my point is... I understand. This is just Wedding Day Jitters, isn't it? Because if that's all it is, there's nothing to worry about. Believe you me, even the best of men get nervous at the thought of committing to just one bed. This feeling of fear you're running from is perfectly normal.

"Nothing about this is normal," Chloe insisted. "It's not about that, Hawk. I want to marry Brady! I want to be his wife, and have his children, and spend the rest of my life at his side. I want that more than anything. His love... it's all I ever dreamed of."

"So what's the bloody problem?" Hawk asked, annoyed and confused. "Brady loves you. Hell, he fell in love with you before he even saw you. He loves you so much, the fact that you are a Kiriakis, his sworn enemy, is completely a non-factor. Your father murdered his baby sister for God's sake, and yet still he wants to marry you. That's love, darling. Plain and simple. And believe me, there is not a single weapon or power in the entire world that is stronger or more powerful than that. And you love him. I've seen the way you look at him. You don't see him as the son of the man who kidnaped you and ruined your life by selling you into slavery. You see him as the man you love and want to spend your life with! So why the hell aren't you there, spending your life with the man of your dreams in the whole beautiful, sappy as hell fairytale?"

"We can't be together," Chloe answered sadly. "It is not meant to be."

"How could you possibly know that?" Hawk responded as patiently as he could manage.

"Because I've been having... visions, I guess you call them," Chloe replied hesitantly.

"Visions? You mean like... dreams?" Hawk questioned.

"Yes."

"Darling, if dreams meant a damn thing, I'd be King of Mucche and married to that nightmare Cynthia," Hawk shuddered, as he had a strong distaste for the thought of ruling any kingdom, least of all Mucche. And he just generally hated "Lady" Cynthia, period. "You wouldn't believe how much ale it took to drown that image out of my head. But it didn't mean anything. As you can see, I have no crown. I am no King, and Cynthia's ugly face is nowhere in sight. Dreams aren't anything to be afraid of. They're just... images in our head we see when we have too much weighing on our minds or when we have had far too much to drink. They're not real."

"But they weren't just dreams," Chloe insisted, unwilling to listen to his words that otherwise would have made complete sense and sound completely logical. "They were real. They started when I was asleep at first. But then, I started to see things when I was awake. The visions were starting to come true, even if only in small, subtle instances. Over-reacting or not, I know these visions are telling me on main thing. If I stay in Nero, I'll hurt the ones I love."

"That's ridiculous!" Hawk exclaimed. "No one can know what the future holds. It's not in writing. Only the past is set in stone. Anything that happens now or in the future is because we make it happen, not because some... force decided it so. Fate and destiny are just words. They don't decide our lives for us."

"You just don't understand," Chloe stated. She stood, dropping the blanket back onto the chair she was setting on. She walked to the back window, leaving a trail of bare footprints behind as she'd not only sloshed water out of the small bucket but her feet were understandably still wet. She looked out at the stream which had nearly claimed her life as she continued to speak. "I can't explain how I know the things I know. I've always felt this... odd connection to the world. I never used to get actual visions, but I often got really strong feelings of ominous events that would later come to pass. Even if the dreams are just dreams... I know the feeling behind them is real. I can't risk it, Hawk. There's too much at stake. If there is any validity to these visions I'm having... then Brady and Philip will die, and it will be my doing."

"Everyone dies, Chloe. You can't prevent or predict that. Only know that eventually, death will come to us all. But unless you take a sword to someone's throat and kill them of your own free will, you are not responsible for that death," Hawk stated firmly, standing now.

"I can't explain how it'll happen, okay!" Chloe exclaimed, whirling abruptly around to face Hawk once more. "I just know that it will happen. And I can't let it. I can't stay here. All I can do is hurt Brady if I stay. I can't do that. I won't."

"And you think that this won't hurt him?" Hawk replied. "Chloe... he has lost every single person in his life that he cares about. You have to know that if you chose to leave him now, then he is going to be hurt by that decision."

"I know," Chloe said sadly. "But not as much as it'll hurt if I stay. What is to come... is so much worse than the pain of me leaving now. I can feel that so strongly, even now. But Brady... he's young. He has his whole life ahead of him. He'll get better in time. It'll be easier. Soon, he'll forget that I was ever even here."

"You obviously don't know Brady very well if you truly believe that," Hawk replied. "You weren't here when his sister died. I was. I saw what it did to him. What it's still doing to him. It nearly killed him, Chloe. That wasn't Isabella's choice. She was murdered. Losing her nearly killed Brady, and that was no one's choice. If you leave, then you chose to break his heart."

"Break his heart... to save his life," Chloe whispered, so quietly Hawk barely heard her speak the words. And her own heart would be broken as well. But it would not save her life. It would damn her for as long as she might have left to live, and likely beyond that. But it was a price she would pay if it meant Brady would get to live. She would give herself up... mind, body, soul... everything that she had left, she would surrender to the Devil himself to spare what remained of Brady's life. "Besides... it doesn't matter now," Chloe said sadly, changing the subject slightly. "The choice has already been made. The damage already done. I can't change it now, even if I wanted to. There's no going back now. I don't have a choice."

"Of course you have a choice!" Hawk exclaimed. "You always have a choice, Chloe. Go back to the Palace. Talk to Brady. Tell him why you ran. Look... I don't know what happened between you two. Words were said... things were done. Terrible things, I'm sure. But it won't matter. Brady loves you. He'll forgive you. Just don't leave. If you leave... then there really may be no going back. I know you don't want that. I'll come with you. I'll help you to face whatever demons you're fighting back. Just please... don't leave Nero."

"I don't deserve to be forgiven," Chloe replied quietly. "I am so sorry, Hawk. I just can't stay. It's not right for me to be here. Nothing good can come of it. It's best for everyone if I go."

"Where will you go? Back to Mucche? Back to a demented brother who disowned you?" Hawk practically spat.

"No. Never," Chloe replied firmly. "I don't know exactly where I'll end up. But no matter where I may go... it will be far from that terrible place. I wouldn't go there, even if I could. I never belonged there, even when I was a child. And I most certainly don't wish to now."

"Doesn't really matter where you go," Hawk began, a very accusatory tone in his voice. "No matter where you go, it only means one thing. That you're not with Brady. I don't understand why you feel you have to do this. I don't even want to try. All I can see is that you are running off with my friend's heart. I wish that I could make you stay," Hawk stated. He shook his head sadly, beginning for the front door. "But if I have to make you stay... then you don't deserve him."

"I never did," Chloe replied, resolved. "Thank you for trying, Hawk. And thank you for saving me. Brady is lucky to have such a loyal friend."

"I thought he was lucky to have you," Hawk replied. "But, I guess when it comes to women, I have the poorest of judgements." He opened the door to walk out, but paused just inside the door frame, turning to face her again with a gentler look of sincerity. "If you should ever change your mind..."

"I'll know where to find you," Chloe finished. "But I won't. I can't now. You'll never know how deeply that pains me. Please... see that he's taken care of. And... see that he forgets me. Though I doubt that is possible. I know I'll never forget him," Chloe stated.

"You're right... it's not possible," Hawk responded with a somber note. "I don't understand it, Chloe. I don't suppose I ever will. But if you're not going to fight for what I know, deep in your heart, you've always wanted... you're not the woman I thought you were." Chloe turned away without responding, unable to look him in the eye any longer. Because he was right. She wasn't strong. She never had been. And, though she wished with every fiber of her being she could be, she wasn't strong enough to fight for Brady.

Chloe stooped to pick up her bag, beginning to carry it upstairs. She would pack it properly there, before starting out on her journey to wherever it was she might end up. Hawk sighed deeply, shaking his head and finally turning again for the last time, closing the door behind him. He would never understand exactly what had just happened. Nor would he ever begin to conceive of the reason why Chloe believed marriage to Brady would bring such hardships. He would give anything to have the kind of love he saw between Brady and Chloe from the very first day in the Market Place after the slavers auction. Though it may seem to outsiders that Lord Hawk enjoyed his wild, carefree, womanizing life, such existence really got very lonely. Sometimes, he rather hated himself for not being able to achieve any better life for himself. He had money. He had hereditary title. He had plenty of land. All he was lacking was will. Hawk hadn't the will to make something out of his life. But his friends... they had that will. Or so he thought. He had thought he had seen something within the couple that would last.

And it was still there. Hawk had seen it in Chloe's eyes as she asked him to see to Brady's care. It would always be there. But for reasons unknown to him, it seemed Hawk would never have the pleasure of showing up drunk at their wedding. Were Hawk a superstitious man who believed in things such as visions and the like, the idea that it was Chloe's reaction to her dreams that would cause their fulfillment might have occurred to him. Had he thought of it, he would have turned right around and set Chloe straight, forcing her to return to the Palace. But he did not believe in visions of the future, and so he did not turn around to plead once more with Chloe not to leave Brady. All Hawk knew was that he had to return to the Palace to survey the damage and seek to undo it as best he could. Great hardships were left to come. That he could sense, without needing to believe in visions or premonitions as, with a heavy heart, he began the long, sad walk back into Nero where he knew only despair awaited him...

"Brady, please," Harold pleaded. "You must come out of there. The city is in chaos!" Another hour since Brady's announcement had passed, and the news of it had spread to every man, woman, and child in and around Nero. Riots were breaking out in the streets and Market Place. Many were storming the Palace, demanding King Brady speak to them and set their fears at ease. Many civilians had already been arrested, and it was taking every guard and soldier within Nero to keep the riots from escalating further. Even many of the guards themselves were joining the riots! And all because of fear, and Brady's refusal to speak to his people.

After the announcement, Brady had locked himself in the room he had given to Chloe upon her arrival to the Palace, when she was still the mysterious slave-woman, Arciana. The entire Royal Council as well as Shawn had since been trying to coax Brady out of hiding. The Council, confused and demanding answers, were least effective, and had since disbanded to return to damage control. Only Shawn and Harold were left now, pounding on the door and calling for Brady to come out or let them in and speak with them.

"Brady, please, open the door. We are very concerned. We only wish to speak to you, face to face," Shawn pleaded, trying the doorknob for the millionth time. With enough force, one or two men most likely could knock the door down if need be. But no one wanted to resort to such extremes, least they alienate Brady even further, if that were even possible. It looked almost as though, however, they would have no other choice.

Just as Shawn and Harold were about to give up on getting Brady to peacefully unlock the door, the loud click of the bolt sounded and the door swung open, nearly toppling Shawn. Brady stood in the doorway, slouching and frowning where he would normally be standing proud.

"Can you not just leave me be?" Brady asked softly, not having the strength to sound angry. He was just broken, a shell of his former self.

"Brady... you can't just ignore this," Shawn said softly, hating himself for having to speak such words that tasted so foul in his mouth. He knew exactly what Brady was feeling. He was hurt and betrayed and crushed. He deserved to be allowed to shut himself away from the world that had turned it's back on him. Be alone to process what had just happened to him. But Brady was not just any other man, though his heart could break as easily and as painfully. As a King, Brady had responsibilities to attend to. And as a King, and a friend, Shawn had to help Brady attend to those responsibilities in any way that he possibly could.

"The people are revolting, Your Majesty," Harold stated. "They are confused and frightened and demanding something be done. Please, Your Majesty. You must do something! The city shall surely fall. The people need you."

"I have no care left in me for them," Brady replied without emotion. He moved back into the room, sitting back down upon the bed that had been Chloe's. It still smelled like hers, allowing Brady some comfort, and yet feeding his loneliness and despair. "I am of no use to them."

"Your Majesty, please. This is not like you. I know you're hurting, but..."

"No," Brady interrupted sharply. "You don't know. You know nothing of it. Even you, Shawn. You haven't the slightest clue what's going on inside my head."

"I have some idea," Shawn replied, though of course he knew grief was different with each person. "We do understand that you are hurting, Brady. Of course you would be. You lost the love of your life."

"I didn't lose her," Brady replied. "She left me. You can't lose something that leaves of its own free will. Chloe is gone, Shawn. She left me. I didn't lost her. She wasn't taken from me. She left me. You can't know what that is like."

"I know that the Brady Black that I know was not a man to just give up!" Shawn retorted. "You've always fought for what you believed in. I have never seen you once give in and take life as its thrown at you. You've hurting and you're alone and I am sorry that I can't do anything to fix that. But you have to get up. You have to fight. Nothing will ever get better if you just roll over and accept this situation. I know that better than anyone! Its alright to grieve, but you can't just abandon the people who depend on you. You're not that kind of man."

"You know I am not a cruel man, Shawn," Brady responded. "I am not proud of what I have done. Or what I will no longer do. But the man you are describing... the man you remember... is dead, Shawn. Dead. And what remains where that man once was... is a poor, soulless wretch who doesn't have the strength or the will left to lead those people. I have lost everything that I care for. As long as I had her, it didn't matter. As long as she was by my side, everything else in the world could betray me and it would be meaningless because I had her. But she's gone now, Shawn. She was... my last hope. Without her... I don't have it in me to lead those people. I didn't ask for their lives to depend on me. I can't be responsible for them anymore. Let them try their hand at ruling themselves. If they tear themselves apart... so be it." Brady laid back down on the bed now, turning his back on his friends.

Harold stepped forward to say something, but Shawn stopped him, shaking his head. There was no reaching Brady. At least not now. Not as he was at this moment. They had to let him have his time to grieve and to process. Shawn drew Harold back with him, both returning to the hall. Shawn shut the door quietly, giving Brady back his privacy. As much as his responsibilities as a King told him to pursue Brady and force him to lead his people, Shawn's responsibility to his friend told him that Brady needed time alone to think and come to terms with what happened. As Shawn and Harold began to walk away, Shawn just prayed that in time, Brady could come to his senses. And he prayed that the city could handle the wait, without splinting apart at the seams...

Later in the day, Chloe, was properly packed and ready for departure. She had taken everything out of her bag to properly fold and organize it. She left a few pairs of shoes and the dress she had stained and torn behind, adding the shoes to the closet of clothes that had once belonged to Brady's mother. While folding and organize her belongings, Chloe had had time to think and process what course of action she would take next.

Obviously, remaining in Nero was not an option. Aside from the pain it would cause her, the pain it would cause Brady would be even greater. And Chloe wouldn't have that. And Mucche was out of the question by all standards. She would sooner have never been rescued from that stream than return there. Philip had made it quite clear she was not welcome in Mucche, although were she to show up without Brady, Chloe imagined he could be persuaded otherwise. But aside from that barrier, Chloe wouldn't return there even if Philip would welcome her with open arms. Philip had proved that nothing had changed in Mucche since her disappearance. The Kiriakis family was still cold and ruthless and they still ruled a cold and ruthless Kingdom. Even raised as harshly as she had been, given every reason to be filled with nothing be hatred and rage, Chloe could never live the selfish, hateful life Mucche would offer her. Much as she desired to be with her bother, her only family, Philip was not the kind of man she could be proud to call 'brother.' Not to mention if she returned to Mucche, and to Philip, word would swiftly get back to Nero that King Brady's former fiancee had returned to Nero's greatest enemy. Chloe wouldn't do that to Brady if her life depended on it.

Rubino wasn't an option either. It was her residence in Rubino that had caused her to be enslaved again in the first place. And though she wouldn't trade her time with Brady for all the world, the thought of returning there just made her uneasy. The memories were just to fresh, too painful, to return to her short-lived home in Rubino. So that severely limited her options.

In the end, Chloe decided the best place for her to go was the Distant Lands. It would be an all new start, something she felt she desperately needed. The only people who traveled to the Distant Lands were merchants and traders, and those men stayed only long enough to conduct their business and move on. So no one would know here there, and her past, painful and morbid, would be left behind in Salem for good. She would travel through the mountains on foot to the ocean shore. She wasn't sure how yet, but Chloe imagined she could barter her way aboard one of the merchant ships that would be carrying goods to trade.

Chloe had absolutely no money with her. What little she'd had before in Rubino had been confiscated by the slavers. And living in Brady's Palace, where all her needs had been provided for her, she had had no need for money. If worse came to worse, Chloe could sell her extra shoes and clothing to get some money. But for the most part, she hoped she could get a job as a seamstress like before once she reached the Distance Lands. Or maybe, given the possibility that the land she was going to might be more culturally advanced, Chloe might be able to do something she enjoyed more. Whatever job she fell into, be it seamstress or artisan, Chloe wasn't too concerned with the 'who will I survive' aspect. She only knew that she would survive, because there was no alternative. However she lived, the point was, she's would be alive, and forced to live in the world. Without love, but at least alive. And more importantly, Brady would be alive, even if Chloe couldn't be with him.

Chloe looked herself over one last time in the mirror, smoothing out a wrinkle in her dress. It amazed her, what all one could truly see in a reflection. Many things might lie, but the mirror was certainly not one. It showed Chloe for the miserable, broken soul she truly was, no matter how much she might wish for a pretty, perfect lie. Whatever became of her now was her own doing. Wrong reasons or right, she had no one to blame but herself.

With a heavy sigh, Chloe picked up her now slightly lighter but still large bag, hoisting it up against her hip. It would be a long and treacherous journey on foot through the mountains. Add that she was carrying such a heavy load, and that she didn't even particularly know the countryside well, and Chloe was no doubt in for one hell of an experience. But she was used to hard labor, and could manage the rough terrain. She'd stay off of roads, unwilling to risk that someone, such as Hawk or Harold, or even Brady himself, might apprehend her. Painful as it was, she knew she could never be found. And she had no intention of being found, by anyone. She might not know how to navigate the areas around Nero and into the treacherous mountains. But if there was one thing Chloe understood, it was how to make sure she was not found.

Chloe descended the stairs, her heavy bag in tow. She opened the front door, paused in the open doorway, and turned to survey the cabin one last time.

_"Brady, it's so dark. Do you have any candles..." Before she could finish her question, Brady had closed the door, and taken up 2 pieces of flint. With just 3 strikes, Brady had a wall candle on the left side of the door lit. But that was nothing amazing; what was amazing was, that almost the second the wall candle was lit, every other candle in the living room and dining room lit as well. "Oh! How did you..."_

_"It's an old trick my father taught me. Funny thing is, I could in no way explain to anyone how it works, I just know how to set it up to work," Brady answered. "The downside is, it only works in a small area, so for the other rooms, I just have to light candles by hand. Stay here. I'll give you the full tour, just wait until I have the house lit," Brady instructed, moving forward into the living room and disappearing down a hallway. Arciana obeyed, staying where she was. She looked around, noticing that the two lit rooms were very large, but sparsely furnished. She imagined that it hadn't been too awful long since the cabin itself had been completely finished, which would explain why little furniture would be present. The house smelled deliciously of pine because the logs which made up the walls were all pinewood trees. The floor was not carpeted, but the smooth wood flooring present gave even more of a rustic, country feel. Brady soon emerged from the hallway, but disappeared into another doorway, to the right of the front door before she could say a word._

_"Brady?" Arciana called, just as he reemerged and began to climb up a staircase also on the right side of the house._

_"Yes?" Brady called, continuing to make his way up the stairs._

_"You built all this?"_

_"Yes, I've been working on it off and on since I was a boy. Most of the furniture that's here though, I bought. Not all the rooms are furnished yet, and the ones that are don't have a whole lot. Yet at least," Brady called, lighting the candles in the two rooms on the right and descending the stairs once more. He'd made his way to the left side, where another staircase stood before Arciana spoke again._

_"Why did you build it? I mean, you do have an entire castle to live in," Arciana pointed out. Brady quickly lit all the candles in the rooms on the left and made his way back downstairs to stand at her side again before ever answering._

_"Well, that's what I'm about to tell you. Come on inside, into the living room." Brady said, reaching out for her hand again and leading her into the living room. He did not, however, offer her a seat, since he would soon be taking her down the hallway. "You see, a long time ago, I had this dream. Well, it was more of a long-term fantasy of mine, of how I wanted my life to be. It was stupid, just a childish fantasy, but I suppose all children have dreams about their future."_

_"What was your dream?" Arciana asked. Of course all children had dreams. Had she not dreamt and fantasized a million different times that her life would take her far, far away from the horrid life she was living as a slave under Lord Paul? Brady hesitated, suddenly unsure he should continue. What would she think of him after he told her about the one dream that ever meant anything to him? It was childish of him to ever have believed it would one day come true. He shouldn't even be thinking of it now, let alone telling anyone about it! "Brady? Is something the matter?" God above, could she already see right through him, after knowing him such a short time?_

_"No, no. It's just... it's so stupid. You wouldn't be interested..." Arciana was very confused. Never once had Brady ever tried to push her away. It was she that was always pushing him away. It made no sense that he would shut down now, after all he'd shared with her already._

_"Brady..." Arciana started, taking both of his hands in hers. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I want you to know... you can tell me anything." Brady couldn't help notice her own hesitation to say that to him. She always seemed hesitant to say and do anything that might indicate she wanted to get to know him better, or wanted him to get to know her. Brady smiled broadly at her; though she was hesitant, at least the fact that she did care was a good sign._

_"Alright, I'll tell you. But if I bore you to sleep, it's not my fault." Brady stated, causing Arciana to smile as well._

The memory washed over Chloe as she stood in the cabin doorframe. As she inhaled, she could remember the exact way the cabin had smelled when Brady had first brought her; sweet, and like a home. One of 1,000 memories Chloe would keep with her always, both cherished and cursed. A tear streamed down her cheek, splashing on the beautiful hardwood floor of the cabin. She hated that it had to be this way. There were no words to describe how passionately she had wanted to be the woman who saved Brady from his lonely fate. The life they would have had would have been so beautiful. But, unfortunately, as fate would have it, Brady was far better off without her.

Chloe turned now to walk out of the door, closing it behind her for what she felt would be the final time. She refused to look back once she started for the entrance to Brady's sacred hideaway. She'd break down if she did. She pressed on, leaving the enclosed sanctuary and starting for the mountain chain that she would cross to seek her freedom. She stayed off the beaten paths, remaining in the shadows of the trees as she walked. By nightfall, she knew she would be well into the mountains if she continued at her steady pace. She could find a place to rest for the night out of the way of any possible prying eyes.

As Chloe reached the base of the mountains, she turned to look behind her for the first time. She surveyed the beautiful landscape that was Nero, taking it in for the last time. As she turned away to continue heading into the mountains, Chloe was saddened that she would have to hold onto that brief memory for dear life. Because it would be the last time she would ever see the beautiful Kingdom of Nero as long as she lived. As that realization washed over her, Chloe's heart broke. Soon the sun would set as she left Nero behind. But the normal setting of the sun would have a different meaning this night. This sunset... would symbolize the conclusion of a chapter of Chloe's life that should not be ending this way. This sunset was brining the end of Chloe's life in Nero, and the beginning of her greatest of all possible fears...

After a long and hard ride, Gavin Park, the lone rider who'd escaped the city of Nero to relay the events unfolding within the Palace to King Philip, finally reached the Mucchean border. He raised the banner of Mucche, as Cynthia had instructed him, and the guards patrolling the city let him pass without resistance. Gavin charged through the city, aiming his tired steed for the Mucchean Palace. Cynthia was outside the Palace Gates, flirting shamelessly with three guards when Gavin approached.

"Gavin! Wonderful! I thought you'd never arrive. You have news?" Cynthia asked, though she knew he would only have left his post if something big had developed.

"Yes, milady," Gavin replied as he dismounted his horse.

"Excellent. Garret, see that Gavin's horse is fed and watered," Cynthia ordered, as though she fancied herself their Queen. Garret bowed and obeyed without question, taking the reins from Gavin to lead the horse to the stables. "Come. I will present you to the King," Cynthia said to Gavin, looping her arm in his. She led him inside the open drawbridge gate and through the Great Hall. They continued into the War Room where Philip was discussing battle tactics with his General, Michael.

"Ah, Cynthia. Lovely to see you this fine morning," Michael greeted, almost hiding his fake cheer. He saw her presence as a valuable asset against his enemy, as she had knowledge none of his men could possibly possess. But beyond that, she was rather a nuisance. He only prayed his tolerance paid off, and ended in Mucche's much deserved triumph over Nero.

"And what a fine morning it is... now," Cynthia replied, turning a coy smile Gavin's way.

"And who, prey tell, is this young gentlemen? He is not one of mine," Philip observed, eyeing Gavin with intense suspicion. He did not like the look of this new young man. He looked the sort of man who would kiss your feet one moment, and stab you in the back the next. And as a rule, Philip distrusted everyone until proven otherwise by extensive trials.

"Your Majesty," Gavin began, removing his riding helmet to show his respect. He bowed his head humbly, continuing his introduction. "I am Gavin Park of Nero. I am a member of the Rebellion against the crumbling rule of Nero by the Black family. I am here at request of Lady Cynthia to inform you of a great shift within the walls of the Neroean Palace."

"Do go on," Philip prompted, his interest successfully grabbed.

"It pertains to your sister, Sire," Gavin responded.

"Chloe?" Philip asked, surprised. "What has happened to my sister? The bounty for any such knowledge is more than one man can even imagine. I suggest you speak swiftly and true."

"She has left Nero, Your Majesty," Gavin replied. "She has broken her engagement to King Brady and left the Palace."

"Chloe broke her engagement to Brady? She finally came to her senses? How wonderful!" Philip exclaimed, clapping his hands in his joy. He'd been in a foul mood ever since Chloe and Brady had left after he rejected their offering of peace. To hear that their plan to make Chloe leave Brady and return to her rightful home was coming along well was grand news indeed. "Oh, how crushed that filthy nuisance Brady must be! If only I could have been there to see it. I am sure the look on his face would have been a memory worth dying for. Well, where is my beloved twin sister? Are you certain she has left Nero? Have you brought her with you?"

"No, Sire. I regrettably have not," Gavin replied. "No one has seen her since she was sighted racing through the Market Place in tears, her bag in tow. One can only assume that she was intent on leaving Nero for good. The news about the Market Place has her fleeing the city for the surrounding forests."

"Perhaps she is on her way here, Your Majesty," Michael interrupted. "On foot, the journey can take quite some time to complete. She may already be on her way here as we speak."

"Perhaps. I would be overjoyed to have her come home of her own will," Philip stated. "But as Lady Cynthia had planned, I rejected her while on Brady's arm. I fear I may have been so harsh that she would feel she could not come here even without him at her side. I can not take the risk of her disappearing again and moving on to a new home. A full scale search must be launched to find her and bring her here. She must be shown that it is my greatest desire to have her here with me, now that she has rightfully disposed of that murderous bastard Brady Black."

"If I may interject, Your Majesty," Gavin began, stepping forward. "Nero is in a weakened, chaotic state. King Brady has announced an abandonment of his crown. The people are revolting. Nero will soon fall into a state of utter turmoil. The city is ripe and ready for invasion. With your vast army, you will have no trouble putting an end to this age old war, wiping the Black family off the face of this earth and claiming victory for Mucche."

"I have no care for conquest!" Philip boomed. "Not when my sister is at stake. I have waited far too long to have her at my side again to let her slip away over something so meaningless as conquest and power. Nero can wait. Let it rot, for all I care, along with my own Kingdom should it get in-between Chloe and I. Michael!" Philip boomed, though Michael was standing right beside him and there was no need to shout his General's name.

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Michael responded in a clear, unnecessarily loud voice, placing his helmet on his head to signify he was ready for the orders that he already knew were coming.

"Call your men to order. I want every available man to begin the full-scale search. Leave only enough men behind to see that the Palace is secure. Everyone else is to be sent out to insure that my sister is brought safely home to me. Begin in the mountains between the border of Nero. Instruct your men to stay clear of Nero's borders, however. I don't want them knowing we are searching for Chloe, least they decide to do her harm to spite me. Expand the search as needed into the mountains and plains on the ocean front. Do whatever it takes to find my sister and bring her to me."

"Yes, Sire! As you wish," General Michael replied obediently. He gave a stiff bow before he left the War Room, two lieutenants close behind, to carry out his orders. He was an obedient man, though strong and very willful. But he would carry out these orders, whether he agreed with them or not. After all... Philip would not be of sound mind again until Chloe was returned to him. And no good ever came from allowing a man driven mad to rule as King.

"Cynthia," Philip called, shifting his attention to the slender young woman who had remained uncommonly silent throughout this whole conversation. "See to it that the bounty is secured for this young man. He may collect it... after he joins the search effort. Do you know what my sister looks like, Gavin?" Philip asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I have seen her on many occasions. I would recognize her with ease," Gavin replied.

"Good. Then get yourself a horse. You will ride out alone. Since I assume they see you as one of their own and know nothing of your involvement with Lady Cynthia or myself, or you would never have made it here alive, then you can freely search in and around Nero without drawing attention to yourself. If she is in that area, you will be able to find her and bring her to me. Once she is found, you may return for your bounty."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Gavin replied, eyes glimmering with greed. He replaced his riding helmet onto his dark-haired head, intent to take his leave.

"Oh, and Gavin?" Philip began to add as Gavin turned. "If you are the one to find her and bring her to me by dawn, you will receive your bounty threefold. But if you have deceived me in any way, or she is not found... I will reward your bounty to the one who brings me your head," Philip warned.

"She will be found, Sire! I assure it," Gavin swore, although not as convincingly as he would have liked. The penalty of treason was death, but death could be made swifter, or it could be made slow and horrifying. Gavin rather feared now his quest for riches would secure him the later form of death. Gavin quickly took his leave, leaving only Philip and Cynthia in the War Room. Cynthia approached Philip, a rather annoyed look upon her face and a scowl she could not hide, despite her best efforts.

"Your Majesty, forgive my intrusion," Cynthia began, though she didn't care if he wanted her to speak or not. "But don't you think that you are being a bit careless? I know finding your dear twin sister is very important to you..."

"It is of the _only_ importance to me," Philip replied sharply, finally standing from the large rectangular table he had been seated at to approach Cynthia. Cynthia, normally always the one to stand her ground, shrank slightly in her place at the wild, determined look upon Philip's face. "Nero is meaningless to me if I do not have Chloe with me. Conquering Nero, Rubino, Supervisore, and Arcadia combined means nothing to me without her! Family may mean little to you, Lady Cynthia. It may have even meant little to my ancestors. But to me, family is everything. With my mother gone, Chloe is the only family I have left. I won't lose her again. I will give up my Kingdom before I allow that! To hell with all of Salem!"

"I understand, Your Majesty. I do," Cynthia said softly as Philip stopped directly in front of her. She took his arm gently, drawing him near. "I only have your best interests at heart. Vengeance against Nero for its sins has always been your family's ultimate desire. I know how important family is to you. That is why I act as I do. It is well known that your father hated the Black family with a passion. He dreamt only of wiping the whole lot of them off the face of the earth, and gave his life to that cause! But he never had the grand opportunity which you are now granted. Brady and his people are weakened. Vulnerable. Now is the time for Mucche to make its move and strike against its greatest enemy. Your father's dream will finally be fulfilled. And once Nero falls, so will the rest of the Alliance. You can give honor to his memory, and right his wrongful death."

"I see what you are saying, Lady Cynthia. I am not a fool," Philip replied. "But I stand firm in my priorities. Chloe must be brought safely to me before I can make my move on Nero. If she is in Nero, she could be hurt in a strike. And the longer she is out there, wherever she may be, the more likely harm will come to her. I must find her first, Cynthia. I simply must."

"And besides," Philip continued. "Once I find her, I will convince her to rejoin our side. I will make her see that this is where she belongs. Mucche is her home. Her blood. She will stand beside me, I know it. If Brady really has abandoned his crown, then the riots Gavin spoke of will only escalate as time passes, making the city even riper for the taking. When I have my sister at my side, it will make my conquest of Brady, Nero, and the Alliance all the sweeter. She will come to me soon. I just know it."

"I am sure you are right, Your Majesty," Cynthia said with a fake smile as she and Philip began to leave the War Room, arm in arm. She had better. Cynthia thought to herself as she plastered on a fake smile to flash Philip's way. Because I'll be damned if I let all my hard work go up in flames. One way or another... all of Salem will be mine... 


End file.
